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vasito-de-leche · 4 months

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;R1999 PAVIA - "sleeping dogs"

Pavia x Reader. 2k words. fluff Pavia's eye bags keep getting bigger and bigger, so you take matters into your own hands and force him to take a nap with you.

starting the sleepytime saga about blorbos getting some good fucking rest and writing a oneshot about it everytime i get sleepy because the world could do with better naps and more zzz's

this was all self-indulgent fluffy mess to make up for the constant FMN bullying in other posts

"You'll get sleepy in no time, trust me on this."

"Like hell I will," despite his protests, Pavia dutifully follows after you. Once you two reach the edge of the bed, he makes a show out of kicking off his shoes while pouting the whole time, if only to continue rebelling against you and your ideas. "What am I? A kid?"

"You're a grown ass man, Pavia - so act like it."

That gets a snicker out of him, and he instantly seethes about it - he's meant to be mad at you for suggesting something stupid. What follows is a long groan and a roll of the eyes, but he knows you're pretending not to hear him as you climb into the mess of pillows and blankets that he calls a bed. As usual, his room is a damn mess.

"It's just a nap, it won't kill you. Promise!"

It only takes a moment for you to get comfortable, rambling about the "golden hour" for naps - according to you, it was good to leave the curtains partially drawn to allow a small amount of sunlight into the room.

You're so convinced of this that Pavia can't bring himself to remind you: he doesn't need any type of light to see, his eyes having long adjusted to being shrouded in darkness. Instead, he lets you ramble as he makes his way to close the door.

Before he can do so, however, a few dark figures stumble and slide inside, all of them a little more eager and curious at the prospect of napping than their master.

Andrea sniffs around you while Tonika and Leon claim their spots under the bed, their snouts and goofy smiles partially visible. Peter makes an attempt to hop onto the mattress, but slips off and settles for laying down at his master's feet.

Pavia, of course, glares at them as if betrayed. The only one who stands by his side is Maleficent, imitating his expression to the best of her ability.

"Are you seeing this shit, Maleficent? Traitors, all of 'em."

The wolf in question huffs in agreement, and Pavia reluctantly sits down next to you, waiting for your permission.

It's only once you pat the empty space next to you - his spot, for him and the pack only - that Pavia plops down. Unlike you, he rests over the blankets and casually clasps his hands over his stomach, idly looking at the ceiling. With his schedule being all over the place and his unusual reservations, sleep is something Pavia does out of immediate necessity. Only allowing himself to sleep for a handful of hours when his body is at the brink of collapse, and so he finds himself wondering what to do now that you're forcing him to sleep recreationally.

Even so, his body language is relaxed and comfortable, that casual and lazy air he only has whenever he's around you. This is his home, after all.

Pavia doesn't think about the basement in Piedmont, but he sure holds his breath on instinct for a second. It's an old, nasty habit - the aftermath of all of his constant screaming and begging, as there was nothing else to do but sit and wait for someone to let him out. In the stillness of the room, he can hear everything: your breathing and his own, faint voices outside in the wilderness, someone passing by in the hallway - it's that kid with the balloons, judging by sound of her skipping around. The darkness cannot hurt him, not when he's reclaimed power over it, not when he's with you and the pack.

Something shifts in his peripheral. It's you, propped on your elbows and leaning over him.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep with your glasses on." You don't wait for an answer and reach out to gently take them off, placing them neatly on the nightstand. For some reason, Pavia feels a little naked without them. "There, much better! Is that how you wanna sleep, then?"

Your question gives him pause, and he immediately defaults to his usual antics. "Now you're gonna tell me how to lay down? What's this, some dumb pop quiz I didn't prepare for? Next thing, you'll be telling me how to snore properly."

"Alright, fine, damn! But it's sooo cozy and toasty under the blankets." To prove your point, you slide down and sink deeper into the mattress, humming with that content expression. The blankets cover half of your face, and your big, dumb, bright eyes look up at him with mischief and amusement. "You're missing out."

"And you're going to start hogging the blankets the second you fall asleep, so what's the point?"

This isn't the first and it won't be the last time you two sleep together in the same bed, he knows your sleeping habits like the back of his hand by now. Pavia makes sure to pay attention to each and every little detail when it comes to you, after all.

"Oh my god, Pavia - just get in. It's easier this way." Pavia does as told, only because you're the one asking so nicely, and he lays on his side to face you. "Perfect, now come here."

"You're awfully bossy today, did you notice?"

He leans in once your hands reach out to cradle his face, rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs and coaxing him, ever so slowly, into resting his head on the space between your shoulder and your neck. There is no resistance from Pavia's part, the way his body melts with yours is automatic - like old pieces of a well-loved puzzle that simply click together time and time again.

Pavia's arms wrap around your torso and he brings you even closer, impossibly so, as if wanting to merge with you. The content sigh gives him away, and he wishes he could see your expression once he smiles into your skin. You were right, it is much better this way. There's no way Pavia could ever get tired of touching you like this.

"Getting sleepy?"

"Not yet," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, wondering whether to leave kisses or start biting you. He settles for the latter, a way to get back at you - it's a gentle nip that catches you off-guard, if that small gasp of protest is anything to go by. "If you want me to fall asleep, you're doing a really shitty job."

For a moment, he thinks you're mad at him when no answer comes, usually you'd pinch his back or bite him back. Instead, he feels your fingers softly carding through his hair, your nails on his scalp, moving in slow sweeping motions. Okay, maybe he spoke a little too soon. Being surrounded by you felt like heaven.

Pavia shifts, now burying his face in your chest. Like this, he can hear your heartbeat loud and clear, and he closes his eyes to take in the sound, committing it to memory.

While he's far from falling asleep any time soon, the weight and stress of the daily routine has certainly left his shoulders. Everything about you is soft and welcoming, and he has to restrain himself from biting you again once he feels you lean in, just to kiss the top of his head.

Fuck it, he bites the nearest spot, unable to contain his affection for you. The way he shows love might be unorthodox, but what matters to Pavia is that you understand the thought behind each action and word - he loves with an open mouth, greedy and full of love. A big bad wolf, one hair away from eating you up. And even then, he never bites hard enough to leave any marks nor to hurt you, not unless you ask him to.

Your laugh resonates in your throat and he keeps you from squirming away just to feel it vibrate in your neck.

Between this and your heartbeat, he doesn't know which one to pick as his favorite sound. The way you say his name behind closed doors, so softly and so gently just for him to hear, is definitely up there with the others in his personal ranking.

"Stop biting and start sleeping, idiot." There's a happy tone in your voice, one that urges him to continue bothering you.

"Easier said than done, stupid."

Taking your free hand, the one that tried so rudely to push him away in protest, Pavia presses his lips against your knuckles, one by one. You seem to like that, as hinted by the way your legs tangle up with his, locking him in place.

"I swear I'm doing my best here to get you to stop moving. Try counting sheep? Or wolves, I guess. Speaking of..."

You make an attempt to look for the pack, only for Pavia to pull you back down. He doesn't need to count the wolves, he knows exactly where they are - nestled together under the bed, laying down in the middle of the room with their soft, fluffy bellies on display, so drowsy and happy to exist in the same time and space as you. It's no mystery that each and every wolf is an extension of himself, a shameless display of his own thoughts and feelings, and even though this is something you're fully aware of, Pavia would rather save himself the embarrassment of admitting any of this.

"Now you're the one moving around, interrupting my precious sleep. What do you have to say for yourself?" He teases, hoping you'll indulge him and keep bantering back and forth - but you press a gentle kiss to his forehead instead.

"My bad..." Pavia knows you're not gonna last any longer the moment a yawn interrupts your words, and he's right - you don't speak anymore after this.

Your grip on him loosens gradually. First, it's the hand that kept playing with his hair, now gently petting him until it slowly comes to rest on the back of his neck. It's warm, so very warm. Next is your breathing, slow and steady, along with the rise and fall of your chest. Pavia nuzzles into it, feeling himself breathe in perfect harmony with you. And finally, your legs - he feels you kicking around, curling up and clumsily drawing the blankets towards you until his legs are exposed to the cold.

There it is, he thinks to himself, smitten and endeared by your sleepy crimes. It doesn't matter though, soon enough the whole pack comes climbing into the bed, forming a soft, black mass at the edge and near your feet. All of them unable to stay away from you, just like him.

Silence settles in and the world grows loud once again.

The soft panting from the pack, the voices outside, the constant stream of steps and life all over the house. Someone is in the kitchen, there's the telltale sound of glass against wood. Somewhere else, a door closes and another creaks open.

Pavia knows that you would never dare to ask the reason behind his awful sleep habits, and there's no way he could ever explain the totality of it- yet here you are, trying to help him nonetheless. It's annoying to have you constantly point out the bags under his eyes, but he respects you for it, for having the nerve to call him out and set him straight when needed. Part of him revels in the undivided attention and scrutiny, to have you all to himself whenever you scold him, examining his tired eyes.

He wonders if you know the power you hold over him, how impossible it is for him to tear his eyes from you. Even now as you sleep, Pavia feels himself slowly forget about the outside world in favour of your soft murmurs, those dumb little sounds you make that he can't get enough of.

You're doing so much for him, perhaps it's about time for him to meet you halfway. From his spot, he looks up at you one last time - he wants this view to be the last thing he sees before he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

"Night, vita mia. Don't let the bed wolves bite."

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #r1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 pavia #i think a lot about pavia's way of distancing himself from. humanity #sure its his way of rebelling and reclaiming power #but also the potential of all of these habits being both a result of trauma and a way to establish his individuality? yeah im a lil derange

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spite-and-waffles · 2 years

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The fundamental thing any writer needs to keep in mind about Jason is that he's basically just a large, asshole cat.

His life ambition is to dive headfirst into the garbage and claim it for himself. He's going to break all your shit. His lives for ill-gotten gains and subterfuge, sacrificing his siblings for the greater good (he's the good). He will bully them on principle, especially those whose subservience to the Parent he disdains as the clear sign of an inferior being. But also displays a surprising protective instinct and solidarity with them when the need arises.

He's God's perfect killing machine, power and beauty and lethal grace until he falls flat on his face. His pratfalls are dramatic and legendary. He marries excellent survivalist instincts and a scary intelligence (How did he open that?? How the fuck did he get in there?? Can this fucker teleport??) with what seems like the driving urge to kill himself in the most creatively stupid ways possible. He knows he's small and squishy but will also try to fight things that could curbstomp him. He will fight you like a hydra and call you an oppressor when you're just trying to save his fucking life. He screams for attention until you try give it to him, and then acts put upon. He will throw up on your bed and act like he's never seen that puke before in his life officer. He lets you think you won, but will never bow to the power of Fate's spritz bottle.

He needs your love and affection but also seems to recreationally experiment with ways to kill you. He's a sadistic and territorial bastard, but employs only the sparing and utilitarian violence of a predatory species. He's objectively hilarious even when you want to slingshot him out the window. He has only love and vengeance in place of morals and the desire to stamp his presence everywhere, that none can ever erase nor ignore him (especially at 4 in the morning).

And with all of these, you must love him with all your heart as your poor little meow meow, or otherwise accept that it is you who is the monster.

#cats #jason todd #crack meta #bat meta #character study #red hood #batfamily #batfam #spite waffle

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scaly-freaks · 5 days

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Literally every single headcanon idea for Feyd and the new oc, chose any you like I wanna know all of them

HMMM okay omg there were so many questions this is about to feel like HOMEWORK!!! Let me lay the ones I like out. I kinda weave my own canon in to fill out blanks from the OG canon material btw.

(i've decided to name her Eshal, it means 'flower of paradise' in Arabic and is only fitting considering the influences in Dune)

How did your muses meet?

Feyd-Rautha killed her father and dragged her by the hair back to his spaceship. Mhm. I wish I could make it more romantic. But I cannot. Eshal was on the verge of going through the spice agony when the Harkonnens arrived, and for some reason that is inexplicable to both her and her fellow sayyadina, she couldn't use the Voice even though she had the ability before. She hasn't been able to use it since she was brought onto Giedi Prime (though I guess shrieking with grief and rage as Feyd dragged her to the ship counts as a very hearty attempt).

2. How long have your muses known each other?

About two months since he took her.

3. What was the last gift your muses got for each other?

Well, you see, Feyd got her a music box. It had her mother's teeth in it. She does appreciate it, though she'd never tell him, and she definitely knows he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart. He just wanted to break her spirit, but instead, it's the one thing keeping her from suicide because she focuses on the question: who will protect my mother's teeth if I'm gone? (Her father did it before her - she has no siblings)

4. Do your muses have a 'place' that's just for the two of them?

Yes, the dungeon.

5. Do your muses want children?

Feyd is like the Baron in the sense in that he has a great deal of disgust for the Bene Gesserit breeding program. However he is fascinated by them, and it's like 'penis envy' but in reverse (whatever that's called). I think if it came to it, he'd come round to the idea of an heir, though we better keep that little mf away from him if it's a boy because he's definitely the kind of father who'd be overly competitive with a son.

Eshal would rather cut out her own tongue than consider having a child outside of the breeding program (this may or may not change).

6. Do your muses want to get married?

No.

7. Do your muses have any pets together?

Feyd has his harpy pets. Eshal can share them I suppose.

8. What do your muses do for fun together?

One tortures the other. The other screams. And then occasionally pisses themselves and starts laughing deliriously.

9. Which one of your muses is more affectionate?

An anaconda is more affectionate than either of them.

10. Who's most likely to apologise first after an argument?

Argument? What argument?

11. What was your muses first impression of each other?

Feyd thought she was very pretty in the way a deer is very pretty just before you shoot and kill it. The deers on Giedi Prime have poison tongues though, so if one gets you just before you get it, it's over for both of you.

Eshal thought he was bald and barbaric as fuck. Her opinion hasn't changed.

12. What is one word that would describe your muses relation?

Demonic.

13. What is your muse's sex life like? How frequent? What are they into?

*awkward laugh* Not with each other...but uhhhh...well, I'm guessing since Eshal hasn't been admitted into any kind of Bene Gesserit breeding program yet, she's still a virgin (?) I don't know if they're allowed to have sex recreationally outside of their assigned penis-havers.

Feyd fucks. Like everyday. Doggy position is his favourite. He doesn't like eye contact until it's on his own terms, and he doesn't like any kind of intimacy that involves being reminded the person he's fucking is also a human being. Hence the doggy position where he doesn't have to see their face. I also headcanon that he's into CNC/Bloodplay/Asphyxiation/Humiliation/Degradation all that stuff, ya know? He's also massively into Fearplay. If you don't know what that is...get acquainted.

14. Do your muses have a 'song' that's just for them?

No, but I have some for them.

#feyd rautha #feyd x oc #dune part two #ask game

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sitchski · 1 year

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teach me, and i’ll teach you.

summary: sure, you could study chemistry… but how? when steve harrington was the one tutoring you?

pairing: nerd!steve harrington x black!fem reader

includes: oral stimulation (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, passionate sex, virginity loss, dom!reader, sub!steve, soft!steve, breeding kink

author’s note: where did i go? myb. but soft boy steve? NERD STEVE? i think tf so! ik this gif is from free guy but honestly it’s just a reference this is STEVE HARRINGTON we’re reading ‘bout. ogey ogey stay super freaky have great vagina i luv y’all ❦

“alright, now see if you can work that one out for me.”

this was easily his fault. the leaning in, making you catch the almost transparent hairs that littered his chin. the swallows, making your eyes avert to the bobbing of his adam's apple instead of being on the way his pen wrote numbers on the page. even if you did focus on the pen, you were just going to focus on the hands writing with it. calloused, veiny and large. the two most perfect necklaces you had ever seen. writhing silently took place in your seat as his left hand came to rub at his chin in thought. his bottom lip seemingly pouts at what was infront of him; you catching notice as his hand had covered it a moment ago.

he seemed stressed. what you wouldn't give to relieve it.

"struggling?" you asked him.

the way his big brown eyes looked up at you so innocently after gaining his attention warmed your heart. he chuckled breathlessly, eyes quickly averting back to the page instead of on you.

"uh- it's just... it's nothing. uhm- how's it going?"

you and chemistry never really got along. maybe it was the way your brain worked but... you just were not good at science. it wasn't that you were stupid, you just needed a push sometimes. and steve harrington gave you that push. ever since your bestfriend, robin buckley, aced her paper you had to know the source of all this random knowledge. she pointed you in steve's direction. which pointed you to make plans to study at your house.

the quick divert of conversation makes you quizzical and you quickly lift your body up to peer at his paper. at the very top of the page was the title, which you read back to him.

"star trek physics?" your tone was unintentionally in disbelief and the way steve shifted his paper away from you let you know he took note of that.

"it's- it's truly nothing. nothing to do with—"

"explain it to me," you urged. the cut off made his eyes widen a little, bewildered at your surprising curiosity. "i wanna know. am i allowed to know?"

"you really... want to?" he was surprised, right eyebrow twitching upwards which made you quite upset.

you weren't the smartest out of the bunch to understand physics to where you could apply it recreationally. despite this, it was perfectly normal to be passionate about things, as well as talk about what you're passionate about. no matter the subject.

"yes. why not?"

he began to get a little excited, shifting in his seat. it was so adorable watching him get ready to explain. the agony to indulge in what excites and gets you riveted. you understood... you really did.

"uhm- so-" steve cleared his throat, "there's this technology the enterprise, star trek enterprise, use called warp drive. in summary it's just a- really strong energy source they can use to travel really fast and through time," he explained, the enthusiasm jumping through him.

you couldn't help but be even more attracted to him. it was so hot watching him talk so enthusiastically — your eyes were so tantalising; without intent you were silently screaming at him to get closer to you. head rested on your palm, elbow propped up on the table.

"i know," you nodded slowly. you had watched only a few episodes of the popular sci-fi show but that was enough to give you basic knowledge.

he looked pleased that you did, smiling slightly as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. realisation that he was staring too hard kicked in so he went back to his explanation.

"so, obviously, all this technology is hypothetical since it's the whole point of science fiction. but, i... i wanna figure out how fast it is they're travelling physically. i used this physiologist's theory, uhm- franz joseph gall, to work out this thing called cubic warp space?"

he took a little pause to bring the notebook of equations and theories closer to him. numbers and letters dotted the page, messily done in hopes of his train of thought not coming to a halt.

"so... velocity equals work cubed times the speed of light," he noted as he pointed to the top of the page with his pencil.

"simple equation it's just... sometimes it gets a little overwhelming so," he laughed a little to himself again but stopped when he catches your smile.

"you're really smart, steve. very handsome too," you complimented. your smile grew even wider at the way his cheeks grew pink.

he smirks bashfully, thanking you. you scoot up closer to him, wanting to get a clearer picture of his physical features. though, the glasses were in the way (as cute as they were). the two beauty marks that were encircled on the right side of his cheek. perfectly implanted, right in the centre. eyebrow hairs flicked on meticulously but still looked like he didn't pay a single ounce of attention to how they looked.

"it's... really hot, actually," you added. something he may not get told often, judging by the way his face lit up.

he didn't know what to do with himself once you had said that, eyes blinking rapidly and trying so hard to look away from you. you began to grow agitated at that, frowning as you took off his glasses.

"why d'you keep lookin' away from me?" you questioned. stutters littered his speech, so prominent he wasn't able to form a proper sentence.

those eyes of his, that hair of his. Jesus, he was appearing to have a likelihood to someone you could draw in the hours you should be spending focusing on your teacher. or any other tutor for that matter.

"sorry," he apologised but you shook your head. you talk again.

"d'you have a girl, steve?"

he looked at you like he felt as though it didn't really warrant an answer before shaking his head. the sleeves of his button-up were now for him to relieve his nerves on, plucking at a stray string of fabric on the right cuff.

"you ever... ever kissed a girl before?"

it was at this moment he knew exactly what you were insinuating. you wanted to put your lips on his, taste him. in more ways than one.

he shook his head again. "do you wanna kiss me?"

your question wasn't met with an immediate answer but rather rendered a pause. again, he stuttered. not that you could blame it, it was a very bold question.

"i would- i would like that. but- but right now? or—"

you cupped his cheek, pulling him in to plant a soft kiss on his bottom lip. he reciprocated the act, kissing you back more forcefully than you intended. did he want this like you did? you gave him another kiss for his efforts, open-mouthed this time, your tongue colliding with his.

he was a good kisser for someone who had never kissed; you wanted to do it again. and more.

and he let you. he grabbed onto your arm lightly, running his fingers up and down the smooth skin. you made out for a while, stopping when the wetness inbetween your legs had accumulated to an uncomfortable point.

"steve, i- i wanna take you to my room," you confessed, eyes not leaving his lips for one moment. all he could do was look up at you, with hazy dreamy eyes like what you were saying was as fictional as the show he indulges in.

"can i take you there? please?" you pleaded.

he wanted you to. grabbing his hand, you both trailed upstairs until you got to your bedroom. flicking the lights and curiosity on, you couldn't even wait to get to the bed before kissing him again.

you kissed him hard, and desperate. you needed to feel him. you moaned sloppily through the kiss as your hands feel under his shirt to get any skin-to-skin contact.

"mm. can i take this off?" you mumbled through your kiss. he nodded quickly, with a little too much energy as a few strands of his hair came falling frontwards. you giggled a little at the eagerness, finding a particular magnetic impulse to the innocence.

button by button, his shirt came undone. you were met with a beautiful body that you couldn't help but ogle over. it made you so hot you decided to mirror him and lose your shirt too. in turn, steve began to ogle at your body. little by little, the unravelling had begun.

you stopped making out to take your pants off your body aswell but nearly got distracted at the way steve's eyes never left your tits. they weren't exactly the biggest but the way steve was eyeing them...

"you like 'em?" you asked tauntingly, pushing them up for display. you watched him swallow hard, feverish at the way you were teasing him.

"they're... they look really nice," he muttered back to which you thank him, "can i t-touch them?" his hands stopped mid-air, not wanting to do anything that would be warranted unwanted.

you were more than eager. "yes. please."

his hands grabbed onto them, thumbs rubbing over your nipples causing them to harden quickly.

"put 'em in your mouth, baby," you whispered. he looked up at you for reassurance but all he could see in your eyes was lust. that let him know you weren't playing around.

cupping your left breast, his lips latched onto the nub and you hum. it gets louder the more he sucked on them, darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. you smiled and shut your eyes in pleasure, running your hands through his gorgeous mane as he switched breasts.

eventually, he stopped and looked up at you again. pondering on your next move. you knew you would have to lead the way, meaning you would have to be the boldest one tonight.

grabbing his hand, you stuck out two fingers to suck on them both. eyes only looking his way, watching his mouth agape at how hot you were.

from there, you pulled his fingers down to your lower region; it was so obvious what you needed him to do. but you knew he wouldn't act without direction or question so you had to give him that push. like he does you.

"touch me. touch right here," you guided. however, he was hesitant. he gave your body the once over before making eye contact with you, not being able to express how scared he was.

"i'm sorry..." he apologised at his struggle to be wanton with you. you shook your head, telling him, "it's okay. this is your first time doing anything like this, right? robin told me — you don't have to be scared. just- just trust me."

all while you were talking, his fingers were rubbing at your wet folds, causing you to lightly mewl. the pure gratification from him doing something so small let you know you were fucking in for it. and you loved that.

"she told you that? gosh, that's r-really embarrassing," he grumbled but you kissed him again to stop him. "nothing's embarrassing about it. just trust me. that's all you have to do."

your hands aided his fingers inside of you while you both gasp at the feeling. he worked you slow, attentively watching how you writhed and spiralled when he fingered you faster.

he probably just liked to hear and see you in this context. you both were in different friendship groups, completely different sides of the social spectrum. never meant you were a bitch though. never meant you didn't find him hot either.

you sucked on his fingers again as you tasted yourself, before you told him to take his pants off. he did with an adorable haste in his actions, desperate getting the legs over his feet and kicking to rid them off his body faster.

when he was finally naked for you was when you copied the way he operated. rapt at the sight infront of you. steve's cock had the right amount of girth and length with this curvature to it like the gods had crafted it.

"something wrong?" he quizzed. you didn't respond but rather ordered.

"sit on the bed for me."

he hesitated for a moment, his head most likely racing a million miles. but he listened to you. you were the expert. his body sunk into the edge of the mattress, legs wide open and ready for you to take the slot between them.

how could you not?

salivating as your mouth wrapped around him only cranked up the pleasure steve was about to feel. the eye contact you two made while you sucked him off moved him to throw his head back, letting out a low-pitched moan at how good you were making him feel. you felt filthy but in the most licentious way possible. in the way that made you want to wrap your hand around his shaft, swivelling your hand around it and your mouth slid up and down to caress each and every single nerve.

you knew it felt good. you didn't even have to ask. but you were going to. your gratification was hearing him be pleased with your work. after all, that's why you were here.

"that feels so good!" he raspingly praised, balling his hands into fists and taking the sheets as prisoners. you hummed slowly and gripped onto his thighs to steady yourself as your nose slightly grazed his pelvis from how much of him you fit.

"you like when my mouth's on your dick, baby?" you questioned. most likely you looked a hot mess; slobber probably dribbled down your chin. steve didn't seem to care; salaciousness sewn into your tone almost forced him to answer verbally.

looking frantically in your eyes, he answered, "yes. really like it."

you smirked, hand still stroking his shaft. "how would you like it if you put it inside me? yeah? you'd like your dick inside my pussy?" your lips were up next to his ear. you teased him and you could see a vein pop out near his left temple. whatever you were saying and doing was working.

"god, y/n. i'd like it. i'd like it so much," he whimpered, eyes shut in complete ecstasy. he pauses from the indulgence to look up at you; his eyes were puppy-like, pleading as he asks,

"i wanna make you feel good too. can i? make you feel good?"

again, the innocence. only the need to attract and get closer was felt when steve talked or acted like that. you shared a quick kiss before lying down on the bed, waiting for him to get ontop of you.

there was trust in his eyes as he looked down at you; he was comfortable with you. every utter of the word 'yes' and every nod of his head was all true. he wanted you too. you didn't have to be unsure of it now.

your walls opened up for him as he eased the tip of his cock into you. a gasp was heard from both of you as you focused on the feeling of you finally becoming one in this moment.

he thrusted slowly, placing his hand right under your knee to spread you and hold it at the angle most pleasurable for him. his other hand roamed your body, on a journey figuring out where to stop and settle. he settled with one of your tits (the right one specifically).

you shut your eyes in pleasure, throwing your head back as you felt him go deeper inside of you. "you okay?" he was breathless as he asked you, squeezing your flesh to get you to give him your eyes.

you smiled, holding his hand. "i'm so good. more than okay. you?"

"r-really good. you feel... amazing..." he rasps out, looking down to watch the work he was doing. from there, you could tell he was beginning to grow cautious. he wanted to make you feel good and desperately wanted to last for you.

you get his attention by running your fingers through his hair, though stray strands still subside infront of his face. panicked eyes watch you but you were sure to inspirit him.

"you make me feel so good, baby," you whined. initially, you felt a weird feeling in your heart, thinking you had gotten too comfortable too quickly. but he groaned slightly, pushing his length further into you.

you moaned quite audibly, smiling at his newfound confidence. as you locked eyes, you brought your hands to his cheeks, cupping them. he hopelessly chased your lips, a heavy tongue kiss being displayed which you both moaned through.

the sheer intimacy of it made you tighten, causing him to hiss and pull away. "nngh- fuck," he mewls, looking down at his dick pushing into you.

his eyes were glued to the sight — the wetness splashing onto his shaft had made it glisten each time it reappeared from being in you.

"i wanna feel... all of you..." he breathed out, "m'gonna push all the way in. c-can i do that?" he cupped your cheek. all you could do was kiss as him as confirmation.

the repeated smacking sound of his hips hitting your backside was soon heard, as were your shared moans and whimpers. “just like that, baby… you like being inside me, huh? you like using my pussy to get you off?” your tone was a little condescending but it seemed as though steve… loved it.

he pushed his length into you like he was fraught to get in even deeper. your walls tightened around him once again, slowing down his movements slightly. “uh-huh,” he nodded, “and you- hmph- fit so- fuckin’ tight ‘round me, sweetheart. like you were made for me. i love the way you feel around me.”

it was you who was now speechless, the one without a thing to say. he had knocked all the wind out of you, driving fiercely into you as though he wanted to prove how quick of a learner he actually was. and boy, was he proving it.

however, you weren't expecting him to say this next.

"i wanna put my mouth on you. y/n... i wanna- wanna taste you. please," he mumbled sheepishly and breathily. your eyes widened but it didn't mean you were going to stop him.

"ofcourse. ofcourse you can."

you both laughed at his haste; steve practically scrambled to his knees and pulled you in by your thighs. surprisingly, he didn't ask much questions he just went straight to pleasing you.

his focus were your folds, lapping up all the wetness there and humming at what he got on his tongue. the vibration made you cry out louder, trying so hard not to squirm around from the pleasure. the shift from your folds to your clit didn't help. how could he not have done this before?

“m’i makin’ you feel good? yeah?” he desperately questioned. he had pulled a way for just a moment, hand sliding up and down your wetness as he looked up at you from inbetween your thighs. he hadn’t even kept them off you yet.

his chin was glistening, hair dishevelled and you were fully convinced there was no sight hotter. you nodded profusely, barely finding it in you to speak.

“m’gonna try and get you there, okay? make you feel how you’ve been makin’ me feel. you- you deserve it okay?”

you didn’t have time to respond, but it didn’t matter. he was already back at it. his tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, sucked on it hard before he shook his head as his tongue messily moved around on it. you were too distracted to ask, feeling the rush build between your legs.

"fuck, baby, fuck. i'm cumming, i'm—"

your hand slammed down on the bed at the total ecstasy you felt. out-and-out pleasure; something you were familiar with but never like this. reminding you you need him to feel the same.

"mmm!" he groaned out at the feeling of your release on his mouth. the back of your mind went on a subconscious wonder of how it felt to him, especially since it was for the first time.

you propped yourself up with your elbows resting on the bed, watching him stare at your cunt. "fuck, i- i've fucking ruined you, haven't i?" he asked, rhetorically. the pit of your stomach stirred — well that was fucking hot.

giggling, you replied, "i think you have. makes me wonder where on earth you got this from."

he didn't respond, but rather came up to hover over you. he kissed your body. his lips took a wondrous trail on you, stopping at the familiar parts of your neck.

"scored a one hundred on my biology test last week," he murmured through his kisses. you were distracted, but wanted to hear about this so-called explanation.

"it was on anatomy. female anatomy."

the answer was just too comical for you to not burst out laughing. he joined you sheepishly but his lips claiming yours stop your light taunt. everything takes a tantalising turn once again as your hand reaches down to stroke his cock; he was still hard, thank God. it meant you could still finish him off — you weren't satisfied if he wasn't.

"you've been so good for me, y'know that?" you pecked his lips. still pumping, you watch his face turn pink at the pleasure. "i think you deserve to finish off, right?"

he nodded, completely speechless.

"you wanna lay on your side for me, steve?”

he planted a quick kiss to your lips, cheek and breast before doing what you asked. you turned to your side quickly, lifting your right leg up which he grabbed subconsciously.

his tip slid over your folds numerous times, struggling to find your entrance but your guidance quickly got him there. he pushed in fast, a little too fast making you grip the sheets at the intensity.

"shit- did- did i hurt you?" he stopped instantly, raising up to see your face. you looked back with a lazy smile, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"it felt good, trust me. don’t worry. go at the pace you want, mkay? want you to finish inside of me. want your cum dripping out of me. you want that too huh?"

he didn't respond verbally. you still knew, though. he had began to speed up in strokes, your bodies moving along with the force inwhich he fucked you.

"i need to hear you, steve," you demanded through your moans, "tell me you wanna cum inside me."

"oh my god," he panted, eyes darting from yours to your tits which were bouncing rhythmically with his thrusts, "i wanna cum in you. so so bad."

his pelvic bone was surely damaged. the fierceness of his thrusts as he verbalised what he wanted to do to you got him acting rougher. in actuality, the animalistic side is what you wanted. you got that tame side of him gone.

"mhmm? you gonna fill me up?" you egged him on, realising that was how you could get him there.

"wanna fill you up, so bad, sweetheart. m'gonna fuckin' drain myself in you. p-paint your walls with it. while all- while all you can do is shut up and take it," he expounded. his fingers dug into your thigh while the other had grabbed onto your tit.

"yeah. 'cause you deserve it right?" you persuaded, nearly orgasming a second time just from his words.

he bit his lip. "i do. 'cause i've been so good for you, shit," he groaned aloud. before watching his cock disappear in your pussy over and over again, he goes to kiss you. it was sloppy and so sensual but you were obsessed with it. you even chased his lips to get a second one.

his thrusts were beginning to get sloppy, your hand still stayed on his neck to comfort him as he lost control. he shut his eyes tight, wavering in stance as he was so desperate to give what you both wanted.

"let go. let go, baby, you can do it. cum for me, steve, please," you whined. it was a need for you as much as it was for him; this whole thing wasn't even about you, you just had to make sure steve felt good.

"holy fucking shit. you're gonna make me cum, y/n. oh- fuck! oh?!" he moaned very loudly as he finally released. you felt his cock twitch at every sprout of cum that shot out and painted all inside of you. your arm extended for your hand to wrap around his neck some more as he buried his head in yours.

you hummed to yourself happily, craning your neck up to be level with him just enough to kiss him endearingly. his tongue slid in your mouth slowly as his hand on your thigh ran up and down across the skin, leaving a tingly feeling on what he touched.

after a couple moments of staring at eachother, you said, “thankyou for trusting me.” your hand ran his fingers through his hair, admiring how handsome he looked. infact, he looked even better all fucked out.

“thankyou for… for it all. it- it was amazing, baby,” steve commended and pecked your forehead.

his cock was still stuffed in you, his cum managed to spill out regardless. it made a puddle on the sheets, much to your amusement.

“y’know you called me handsome,” he taunted. eyes drinking in your features and the way you stared at him quizzically for a moment,

“but you’re… beautiful. absolutely beautiful.”

you giggled lightly at his kind words, thanking him and enjoying this intimate moment you were sharing. aimless conversation, smoothing your hands over eachother’s bodies.

“so…” you started, looking at the way his eyebrows raised briefly in anticipation, “…you wanna watch some star trek reruns?”

his cheeks changed colour, to a light pink hue. he was flattered by your request. that in turn got you grinning profusely.

“i would love that. you need to be converted anyways.”

#sitchski #stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x black!reader #steve stranger things #stranger things 4 #hot nerd #nerd #oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington joe keery #joe keery #steve x you #steve x y/n

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kedsandtubesocks · 11 months

Text

pedro boys + sports headcanons

I’m sorry I’m just a weak sucker of a sports girlie and I blame @skeletoncowboys for encouraging my wild ramblings (but also love you forever eri) anyways this was fun and that’s all that matters sometimes, go team!

Jack Daniels: ok so number one biggest sports guy, watches everything and anything and gets into it! Makes friends with anyone who sits around him at games, probably loves getting into team chants and enjoys himself a good old fashioned rivalry. Whenever his team scores Jack cheers so loud and then loves to kiss you as a celebration treat, is the biggest fan of seeing you in any team memorabilia and gets handsy whenever you wear a jersey cause “you just look so god damn cute baby!”

Joel: my pure texas football boy! Loves rooting for the University of Texas Austin, owns various longhorn merchandise (that’s their mascot) watches the games religiously and loves to go to home games! Has fond memories of taking Tommy and Sarah to games and has been raising Sarah since she was old enough to walk to do the longhorn 🤘 hand symbol. You agree to go to a game with him and even if you don’t know what’s going on, just getting to enjoy that quality time with you and seeing you laugh amused, bright, the first time you hear the team band play is when Joel realizes he loves you

Javi P: casually watches sports but really doesn’t care, says he likes the Dallas Cowboys just cause but again really doesn’t give a shit, played baseball in high school for a few years but it was just to pass the time, mainly loves to tease and joke about whatever sport is going on and has plenty of jokes about Texan sports teams (as all of us Texans like myself do) at family gatherings if any game is on he honestly just uses the entire time to flirt and be cute with you

Marcus P: basketball fan for sure, came from a big basketball loving family and proudly continues the legacy of cheering for the same team, so like…if his dad is from Boston and loves the Celtics, Marcus will forever love them too. Because to him it’s about the memories he has of watching games together with his family and associating the team with them, so yeah he is loyal forever and proud of it! Anytime you take the time to just ask how his fav team is doing he gets the biggest heart eyes. Also for some reason gives off the vibes he was a big swimmer back in high school and I see him still swimming recreationally

Din (modern au): falls asleep during any sporting event it never fails and we love and respect him for that! But…if the baby is in any sports like t-ball Din becomes the biggest fan and will completely be watching the game with an intense but endearing focus!! Also, he keeps a punching bag and a few weights in his garage and out of curiosity you ask about his makeshift gym only to learn when he was younger Din was a trained MMA fighter and it melts your brain

Ezra: at first you think he might judge sports and see them as low culture but then you find out he’s really into boxing??? And then you find out he’s a WRESTLING FAN?? Boxing is intense and he tells you he loves watching because it’s “humans engaging with their fists in the oldest sport of all my gem, and that’s fighting” then he loves wrestling because it’s outlandish and he lives for the drama of seeing people scream and throw each other around in glorious outfits

Dave: does not care for sports other than golf, religiously tries to make time to play even if it’s just by himself, enjoys the solitude and concentration it takes. Funny enough he loves a goods sports documentary and is surprisingly good at bowling which you discover during a date night with him

Javi G: doesn’t get sports but is so sincere about it, sweet baby who smiles and says “I hope the team we like wins!” But whenever the FIFA World Cup rolls around he becomes the BIGGEST Spain fan, takes you to watch it live with him at the arena and yeah he might not even know who’s playing on the team but Javi just enjoys being around so many excited people rooting for his home county and loves getting caught up in the emotions

Max P: once joked that he was around when the first ever American football game was played so he “doesn’t need to see any of this new shit” and you don’t know if he’s actually telling the truth or lying so you don’t question him

Pero (modern au): loves soccer/football, is really good and quick on his feet but does not have a big team he watches. Besides that he is also really good at tennis because he’s so light on his footwork and loves the hand eye coordination it takes, really takes ping pong/table tennis very seriously and it’s kind of hilarious and cute watching him so grumpily focus

Frankie: big NFL classic american football boy! He’s the type of guy who can watch any team play and enjoys just watching to watch!! Knows and likes a lot of teams, because he moved around with the military started to do this sweet thing of cheering and getting into supporting the state’s team of wherever he is living so he can learn to love and appreciate the place he’s living in

Oberyn (modern au): does not watch sports but stays active and enjoys a variety of things recreationally from martial arts to water polo, absolutely LOVES the Olympics and watches every single event, you also casually discover he owns a very famous European football/soccer club when he takes you on a surprise date to a game and has his own private box seats

Dieter: thinks sports are shit but loves dodgeball, during a celebrity charity event he got really into the dodgeball game and didn’t hesitate to rip his shirt in half overwhelmed with emotions (also threw the ball too hard and accidentally hit John Stamos in the face and yes there are multiple meme videos of it online) funny enough he is invite to another celebrity sports charity event but this time it’s baseball and he whines the entire time. He sits in the outfield, during the game flat out walks away to get a pretzel and then flirts with you the rest of the time saying “I’m falling in GLOVE with you hot stuff!”

#the curse of being a sports girlie…#headcanons #long post #pedro boys #Pedro boys 🤎

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mangoshorthand · 7 months

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Ok enough about mannequin banging. What are your headcanons or thoughts about what Five did in the apocalypse for 40 years alone, what the show didn't reveal or maybe hinted?

I imagine the majority of his time was probably spent surviving. Scavenging, preparing for the winter, building shelters, trying to develop a sustainable source of food and clean water. All this would be backbreaking work that would require him to travel quite far to gather materials, all under his own steam. It would be exhausting and time-consuming and probably be at least 50% of his life.

Engineering and design. Fixing up (and possibly building) his recumbent bike, wagon etc. Generally creating labour-saving or sanitation devices.

Maths. SO MUCH MATHS. Any spare time he had would be working on equations to try and get out of there. I imagine part of what took him so long is the physical and mental exhaustion involved.

Way more crying and emotional breakdown stuff than we've been shown. Think Luther on the moon and multiply that by 11. Formless screaming, possible self-harm, compulsive habits - the possibilities are endless and sad to think about.

Recreationally:

Reading. A whole lot of reading. Absolutely anything he could get his hands on, whether it was a book or the ingredients on an empty mountain dew bottle. Just words put there by people. Anything to put him in touch with people and remind him of his humanity. I can see him getting a real kick out of romance novels, particularly Jane Austen. Her novels are so focused on society and the minutia of social interaction, (to the point that they barely even mention the Napoleonic wars), and they would have provided him with an escape into a completely different world, so far removed from his real-life situation.

Drinking. His alcohol problem 1000% developed in the apocalypse. As soon as that boy found alcohol, he drank it. I see him at fifteen years old, smashed out of his mind like: "wow, this is awesome, I barely even want to kill myself right now!"

To be strictly honest: masturbating. It's an inbuilt recreation activity that even an apocalypse can't take away, and it has the added benefit of boosting oxytocin and dopamine which would have been much needed. I imagine he formed another little addiction there but grew out of it when he got into his 40s or so.

I can see him planning little dates and trips with Dolores when he had the time. I can see him saving his best food and wine for it and taking her to stargaze or see a beautiful view. He probably wouldn't be very romantic day to day (too busy trying not to die) but these dates would have given him the opportunity to be tender with her and show his appreciation.

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy number five #five hargreeves headcanons #number five headcanons #tua headcanon #five headcanons

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filthforfriends · 2 years

Text

Guardian Angel: Chapter 3

Omegaverse: Damiano x fem reader

Word count: 9.8k

Damiano’s version of talking was texting you that he was busy today. You thought of four excellent, searing replies, but ended up sending nothing. Avoiding you was the most rational thing to do. Hell, you would avoid yourself today, sequestered at home with your mother taking a day off to watch you. On your way to explain how unnecessary this was, vertigo had you head over ass, falling down the stairs. The bruising to your tailbone felt semi-permanent and you wanted to scream like a toddler out of frustration.

So you ended up bed ridden, getting ahead in school to feel useful. You tried reading recreationally for the first time since fourth grade. Turns out the ability to chew through 400 page novels was a stage not a character trait. Your breasts still ached and the hot flashes were aggravatingly persistent. After a few bouts of crying and way too much TV, you went to bed early, feeling woozy and unstable.

The following day was spent much the same. You conquered the shower, tried to make yourself a meal and was interrupted by tachycardia. Mx.Frankie had sent you a note and Dr.Rowan and medical report. It contained the language “agitation” and “suspected mood swings” which would have made you seethingly angry if it didn’t make you laugh. Thalia’s academy for the gifted got out early so she came to your room. Her footfalls were nearly silent, her nervous energy barely quelled.

“You want to ask me something don’t you?” In terms of social skills, Thalia was definitely the youngest, or maybe just the least capable. She nodded and stepped into your room, and onto the carpet. Immediately she started tapping her finger tips together in repetitive rhythms.

“So now that you’re on suppressants, does he get to be your boyfriend?” She analyzes her painting, which hangs on the opposite wall as decoration, with critical eyes.

“Hypothetically, I guess.”

“Because dad’s statement is null if you have an HSIUD.”

“Right. We’ll see how that goes over,” you shrug, turning to follow her gaze, now landing on the window.

“What’s it like?”

“Tally, you have a boyfriend,” you emphasize.

“Fighting with dad. What’s that like?”

“It’s not…great, but it feels necessary. I know you hate it.”

“Just the yelling, but you’re kind of doing me a favor. Anything I ask for the next day seems perfectly reasonable.”

“Huh,” you chuckle, and she joins in awkwardly, followed by a lengthy silence. Thalia finally meets your eyes, and you know that she’s found her way to the point.

“So Oliver got into this volcanic international study program and I was thinking that maybe –”

“So you’ll be on the same work study trip as your boyfriend away from this god forsaken place, yes.”“The topography here is extremely boring, as you know.” You did, she’d complained at length. “And so –”

“Y/n, Damiano’s here,” your mother calls from downstairs. Thalia keeps talking, but your brain ceases to function as soon as you can smell his pheromones. You nod along, agreeing to what is very likely a reasonable request, given who it’s coming from.

“So you’ll let me know a couple days prior to upsetting dad?”

“For sure, Tally,” you say, before passing her on your way out of the room. Clio would be insulted if you brushed her off, but Thalia was harder to offend. You stop at the top of the stairs, having learned your lesson the hard way yesterday. Wool socks, shorts (not of the sexy pajama variety), and your oversized t-shirt was not the way you wanted to present yourself, but he had given you no warning.

Your mother and Damiano rounded the corner. Fuck, he looks good. It wasn’t even the outfit, which was the simplest you’d seen. He was glowing somehow, maybe a tan. Plus a couple silver necklaces that brought attention to his shirt, first four buttons undone. Might as well just take it off, and wouldn’t that be a splendid turn of events.

“So you’re not gonna come down here and greet me,” he teases, radiating confidence to compensate for any animosity on your end.

“I, um,” you swallow hard, getting an iron grip on the hand rail. After a tentative first step, you consider taking off your socks to prevent slipping.

“Y/n!” your mother warns, then turns to Damiano. “She fell yesterday. Down the stairs, she got dizzy and –”

“Oh, jesus fucking christ don’t!” He holds his hands out as if to catch you, 11 steps later. Relishing the dissipation of his cockiness, you decide to tease him a bit further.

“Oh no, you’re right! I wouldn’t want to be rude.” You take another step, focusing on correctly judging the distance. The mix of terror and dismay on Damiano’s face is positivly hilarious.

“No, no, no it’s fine! You don’t have to – I mean, I was just –”

“If my alpha commands it then I must persevere.” Damiano realizes you're joking and rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, a bout of dizziness does wash over you, and in an effort not to wobble you squeeze your eyes closed and hang off the rail by both hands. Your mother inhales sharply, and the floorboards creak as Damiano bounds up the stairs. He holds you steady against him, standing one stair below so he’ll be able to stop your fall. The vetigo passes quickly and, after a couple seconds you feel normal, looking up to find Damiano’s face perfectly level with yours. He recitfies the situation, before sexual tension can even form, stepping up.

“By the time you’re 16 I’m going to be fucking 30 after everything you’ve put me through.” You snicker and he's already smiling, looking away so he doesn’t end up laughing despite himself. “I swear to fucking god, y/n the walking hazard.”

“Damiano, the massive slut.” He turns towards you in absolute shock, mouth agape. He displays theatrical offense which might be at least some parts authentic. Dami’s dramatic reaction has you laughing even harder. “In front of your mother?!” he whisper-yells.

“You’ve sworn five times in 20 seconds,” you hiss back. “Plus, it's important that my family gets to know you, right?” Dami shakes his head in disbelief. Again, he’s trying not to smile, but his affection is revealed in the way the corners of his mouth turns upwards despite his best efforts. The whole flirtatious interaction is done nearly chest to chest with Damiano holding you firmly. You will your body not to slick up. The hormone suppression was supposed to help with that, but you didn’t trust its efficacy.

“And I am genuinely sorry that I’ve caused you so much stress.” The guilt settles in your throat, right below the origin of tears. Having all your exchanges as light-hearted flirting wasn’t authentic.

“Hush you, my life was boring before. No medical emergencies? No biblical levels of temptation?” You let out a dramatic yawn and Damiano looks skeptical and confused.

“Oh, I was just already getting bored from the description.” Dami rolls his eyes, sighing in mock annoyance. You delight in his humorous exaggerations, but when his gaze returns to yours, there's a hunger that can’t be hidden quick enough.

“C’mon lets get you back to bed,” he sighs. You suggestively wiggle your eyebrows as he guides you up the stairs and he pretends very poorly not to find it funny. “With the door open!” he exclaims. Damiano turns to see your mothers approval, but she’s already made herself scarce.

Thalia is standing in the hallway, just outside her door, observing. She doesn’t offer to help, probably preferring to watch documentary clips about ancient cave temples. So really, you appreciate the gesture of watching you make it back to your room.

“Dami, this is my sister Thalia, she’s 17 too, but she goes to Emerson.”

“Oh, congratulations! That’s really impressive, my general practitioner actually went to high school there.” You miss his hands on you, even if just to keep you from becoming concussed.

“Thank you.” She gives a single nod, then looks at you for an out.

“I should really sit down in case I get dizzy again.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” By the time you and Damiano have taken two steps over the threshold, Thalia has closed her bedroom door behind her. You sit in the middle of the bed, cross-legged.

“Was she mad at me?” Dami seems mystified. You forget that your older sister isn’t easily readable to those outside your family.

“No, I think she really liked you! She just hates obligatory conversations and talking to new people.”

“Huh, well that's understandable. I’m not the social butterfly I seem either. Or the, how did you phrase it so eloquently in front of your mother of all people, ‘massive slut?’”

“Oh, no?” you giggle, taking the bait.

“No! I admit…there was a stage when I was 16 that uh,” he tilts his head to the side and winces. “Why am I trying to justify myself to you?”

“I don’t know, but it's certainly amusing.”

“Oh, I’m glad I amuse you,” he replies, sarcastically.

Totally ignoring his tone of voice, you respond, “yeah, me too because I’ve been bored all day. Hey, dance monkey, dance!” Damiano does a little jump and jig that leaves you cackling, then looks baffled as to why he heeded your request. Dami brings a hand to his face, letting out a huff.

“What the fuck was I talking about?”

“Your 16th year spent balls deep in any willing orifice.”

“Oh my god, no!” He cringes and makes a gagging noise, shaking his head as if it was possible to dislodge the phrase from his memory. “I was a little more selective than that y/n, but yes…basically I had only one mated relationship and I was trying to get more experience while I killed time. Also I was horny and people were available.”

“How romantic,” you guaff.

“I like to see it as guaranteeing my feelings were tried and true.”. Suddenly this conversation is lost on you.

“Wait, what? Why was 16 year old Damiano killing time?”

“Because you were 14.” He’s bashful, shoving his hands in his jean’s pockets, rolling back on his heels and looking at the ground. For a few seconds, you’re unsure of what to say, and the silence hangs heavy in the air.

“You waited for me to be ready,” you marvel, suppressing the urge to leap off of your bed and onto Damiano.

“Well…yeah, but I wasn’t sure at first. It was experimental for a while.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“And then I was sure.” He says the words so casually, like this isn’t adjacent to a declaration of sorts. Alpha’s pledging to be an omega’s mate often results in a relationship that at the very least lasts several years. Damiano isn’t doing that, but he was letting you know that he was prepared for that step. He’s also watching your reaction very closely. Do you look freaked out or overwhelmed? His astute gaze flitted from one feature to the next.

“I don’t know what my face is doing, but you’re not going to scare me off with honesty.” You try to sound warm, crawling to the edge of the mattress to embrace. You stop yourself, unsure where Damiano stands when it comes to affectionate touch. He seems determined to stand in the middle of the carpet, and not any closer, out of reach.

“Come ‘ere,” you coax, beckoning him. “It feels weird and impersonal to have this conversation so far apart. I don’t like it.” Damiano steps almost within arms reach, his breath quickening. “You can sit. I’m not gonna do anything without your consent.” If Damiano didn’t know that already you’d made a massive error along the way.

“I just think I should stay standing.”

“Okay…”

“Because of how – because you’re too tempting to me. Like I’m –” he flexes, then clenches his hands into white knuckled fists. “I’m actively reminding myself that I can’t just do anything I want, but even with that thought, like…No matter how much I focus, all I can think about is all the things we could do and most of them require some kind of surface to rest on.” His jaw is set, veins in his neck visible as he swallows hard. Even the muscles in his face are tense.

“So you’re standing up,” you conclude. Deciding to meet him where he’s comfortable, you climb off the bed. Dami’s eyes go wide like he hadn’t thought of this possibility.

“May I hug you?” It takes him a moment to process, rolling his bottom lip against his teeth.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he replies softly. Instead of taking a step towards you, he takes two steps back, centering himself on the carpet, then holding his arms out. Apparently this is a safe distance from the bed. You walk into his arms and immediately he bends down and buries his face in your hair. Damiano breathes in like he’s about to dunk underwater, like your smell is what he needs to subsist. The second exhale turns into a rumbling growl of satisfaction that you can feel in his chest. One hand is wrapped around just under your shoulder blades and the other is massaging your scalp. Indisputably, Damiano needed this hug more than you did. He’s calming down, relaxing.

“God, I get fucking withdrawals. The way that you smell is just,” he exhales in carnal satisfaction, his chest rumbling again in a way that makes your nipples harden and every hair follicle stand up. You squeeze Damiano tight, reassuring yourself of his presence, forehead against his exposed chest. He’s wearing cologne, but his pheromones are overpowering it, as is the musk of body odor and you want to lick him clean.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” Damiano clears his throat roughly. His skin is so hot that it makes you shiver, like the contrast of a warm shower after coming in from a cold day.

“No, I’m still sore.” He starts to loosen the hug, but you squeeze tighter in response. That’s not what I meant.

“Can I tell you about my thoughts these past couple days like this?” You nod enthusiastically, and Dami rests his chin on your scalp. Anything to elongate the physical contact is welcome. He has one hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, and it's more calming than any drug.

“I think that ceasing all physical contact makes us so desperate we can’t function and then we fail anyways. Avoiding each other doesn’t work. So I think that touch in moderation is the only way to stay sane until you’re ready.”

“I agree.” Damiano pulls away so he can read your facial expressions.

“And this only applies as long as you’re completely comfortable. You can rescind consent at any time.” He was trying so hard to even out the power differential, when really you were on the verge of begging him to take advantage of you.

“And of course vice versa.” It feels like the adult thing to say so you punctuate it with a staunch nod.

“Sex and kissing is still off the table.” Immediately, you want to argue with the kissing ban, but decide to pick your battles.

“Define sex.” Damiano's eyes widen, then he looks behind him at the open door. “Mind if I close it now?”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back, standing tall.

“Is there something off limits to talk about?” You ask, knowing the answer.

“No, of course not. You can ask me anything.” He gingerly turns the knob while shutting your bedroom door.

“Okay…” you climb back on the bed, stealing yourself for this conversation. “So tell me what counts as sex to you, just so we’re clear.”

“Well no knotting or penetration obviously.” He’s getting visibly flustered just talking about it, and you know it's because he’s picturing you.

“Does fingering count?”

“What – what do you mean? You can do anything you want to, um, to yourself.”

“I know that,” you dismiss, intent on keeping your cool. “But like, if I was really turned on could I ask you to finger me? Or would that not be okay?” You actually watch in real time as Dami’s brain short circuits. He starts shifting his weight back and forth, fixing his gaze just to the left of you.

“Well, n – not um, uh. It depends.” Even that non-answer seemed almost overwhelming for Damiano, and you know you take too much enjoyment in this.

“Because if you were ever really pent up, you could ask me for a blow job, just so you know. Would you ever give me oral? Only if you were super into it of course.” He takes a trembling breath and looks up at the ceiling. His hands are flighty, in his pockets, then folded, then resting at his sides like they can’t choose.

“Um, no. No, I don't think so. Not because I’m not – because I really, really want um…huh. I gotta – I’m gonna turn around.” It hard not to giggle over the fact that Dami is so sexual charged that he can’t look at you and talk about intercourse.

“Okay, so oral counts as sex, but fingering it depends. What about hand jobs? Could I give you a hand job?”

“I don’t, uh, hng –”

“I guess I should say that I give you permission to ask for a handjob if you ever wanted to.”

“Right, okay, um…” He turns back around, obviously flushed. “I need water. I need – need to uh –”

“Bathroom is across the hall.” Damiano turns mostly away from you and tries to adjust himself subtly. He looks over to find you literally licking your lips, because for a moment the outline was abruptly clear.

“Can you at least attempt to control yourself,” Dami objects. You laze back on the bed, languidly looking him up and down. For a moment, you wonder if this is what it's like to be an alpha. Then Damiano stares at you with a gaze that could burn through the mattress. He has both hands on his hips, cock proud inside his jeans, eyes searing and you remember your place.

“Sorry, I’ll go get us water,” you volunteered, feeling parched yourself.

“No, please just stay here,” he emphasizes, a hand gesturing at you to sit down. “I won’t be able to think of anything else if I’m worried about you falling down the stairs.” His concern has you feeling foolishly warm in your chest until you hear the bathroom door latch. An earnest panic propels you halfway across your room before you get a chance to evaluate it. The gist: I’m right here. I’m here and my alpha is in there with his hand and very active imagination. I’m right here!

It was not just about pleasure, his and yours, but the vulnerability at the moment of release. There's an intimacy in watching someone cum, even if you have nothing to do with it. All the little details of their form reveal something beyond the moment if watched closely enough, and you wanted to read Damiano like a map as he shook with pleasure. There's the warm panting of breath against your cheek, the slight sheen of sweat, the perfect balance of relaxation and tension in their face. How hands and toes curl, and the spine arches to reveal every sensation, letting you in on a sacred secret. Because this nakedness that had nothing to do with clothes was sacred. Orgasam unreliable except for being reliably honest.

However, now Damiano was already across the hall, behind a door, and you hadn’t had the chance to communicate any of this. A desperate plea of: let me close to you. Let me see you. You walked out into the hall, examining how strong your will might be. So often we lose chances because we write off mistakes as impossible to undo. We’re not willing to risk rejection and embarrassment.

You lean your forehead against the door and tap twice with the pad of your middle finger. It’s poorly made and hollow. Can he smell me? Damiano taps back from inside the bathroom, and you whisper against the doorframe.

“If this is how you desire this moment to be, tap.” There’s silence, and on the other side of the door Damiano is in the same position, breath held. “Then please come back to my room,” you whisper, hoping you’ve caught him in time. The door opens slowly, his eyes scanning the hall. Glancing down to his groin, you can see that Dami’s still hard, and you pull him into your across the hall, closing your door behind you.

“I understand that you want to wait for certain things, but the last people we should be hiding our sexualiy from is eachother.”

“You’re right. I should have made this a negotiation,” she shakes his head, scowling.

“Hey it’s okay,” you coo, “c’mere.” Damiano lets you pull him onto the bed. You sit back on your heels so he has room to arrange himself. At first, Dami mirrors you. Then he lays down, decides that's not right either, and props himself up on your pillows. He gages your reaction once settled, but you’re just happy to have gotten this far. You work your way up, hands rubbing his shins, then over the knee, lower thigh, and you stop before pushing any rules.

“Will you take your shirt off?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Damiano pulls it over his head and off, revealing his chest. You’re happy to explore that with your hands too, starting by running a hand from waist to neck along the centerline. Your fingertips trace his clavicle, sternum, then your palms caress his pecs. Repeatedly, you run into his necklaces, until Daminao takes both off and sets them on your bedside table. Now your thumbs brush over his nipples as you decide to come back to that. Every freckle is marked by your touch, every line of musculature stroked with care. You had to intentionally appreciate him in pieces, giving each their own moment, or you’d get utterly lost in the glory of his body.

Damiano’s abdomen quivers under your hand, the muscles contracting. When you reach his happy trail, his cock jumps too, and he holds his breath. His regulations that served as a hindrance were now forcing you to appreciate him more fully, so you make a game out of following them. Since kisses weren’t allowed, you kneel between his legs and simply rest your face on his skin, breathing him in, feeling the warmth that radiates from his body. You run your lips down his happy trail to feel the hair tickle, and realize there are so many things a mouth can do besides kissing.

Turning your attention back to his nipples, you position your lips over them, resting your body against his for as much contact as possible. Your hands cradle his ribcage, feeling each shuddering inhale. You suck his left nipple into your mouth gently and Damiano gasps. While increasing the suction in increments, his back rises off the bed and towards you, seeking more sensation. Switching tactics, you bite down lightly, and Dami lets out a moan. You look up to find his face wracked in pleasure, not even attempting to school his expressions. When was the last time someone savored him? Or did they all succumb to the overwhelm of his beauty?

Switching to the right side, you lick harshly, then trace his mauve nipple with the tip of your tongue. He lets out a whine, arching into your mouth, so you rake your teeth across the sensitive bud and feel a hand on the back of your head. Damiano allows himself to groan in pleasure, his pelvis rocking forth in search of pressure. You give him your weight, moving your body with his.

“Y/n, y/n please, just…just,“ he murmurs, hoarse from trying to control his volume. You look down and think about all the possibilities. Using friction you might be able to get him off as is.

“How may I serve you?” Dami looks burdened with decision making. His nose crunches, as he continues to roll his hips up to meet your abdomen.

“Clothes off,” he commands.You undo his belt buckle and his fly, before he gaffs. “Your clothes, darling.”

“Oh.” You look down at your own unflattering attire, having forgotten about it. Getting your shirt off was the easiest part, so you start with that. As soon as your breasts are exposed, nipples hard, Damiano captures one in his mouth, tweaking the other with his fingers. His mouth is warm, wet, and soft, the sensation going straight to your cunt. It’s immediately apparent that he knows what he’s doing, alternating between caressing with his tongue and sucking. Damiano is surprisingly gentle, no teeth, using just his lips to pull at and release your nipple.

“Touch yourself.” His earlier words appear in your mind. You can do anything you want to yourself. The problem was, getting yourself off took time, an above average amount of time from what you’d deduced. Obeying, you push your right hand into your underwear and find your clit. Damiano starts working a hickey into the soft tissue of your breast, and you try to focus on touching yourself, but end up distracted. Should you fake orgasam in a timely manner? Was Dami expecting you to finish anytime soon? Could you even get yourself to orgasam with another person watching?

His tongue, now refocused on your nipple, feels better than your own hand rubbing your vulva. You take it as a sigh to recognize the futility of this effort and do something else. Rescinding your hand from your pants, you return your focus to Damiano's state of dress, getting his trousers undone.

“I want to get you off first,” you justify. “Can I?” He nods, leaving goodbye kisses in the valley of your breasts. He lays back and helps you take off his bottoms and boxers. Damiano has the cock you’d expect from an alpha: sturdy, sizable, well-performing. He was rock hard, shaft not quite resting on his stomach. What you were perhaps more interested in, was his external scent glands. He hadn’t given you permission to suck his cock, but there were many other places to put your mouth.

Your hands parted his legs, and you propped yourself up in between. The wave of pheromones from his totally exposed glands made you feel inebriated for a moment. This was the first time you’d been this close to a matured alpha’s glands. They looked like you expected: two small swells, almost shaped like an unripe grape, just inside the crook of his thigh. There was a slit, similar to the gill of a fish, that allowed scents to be released.

“This is your first time seeing an alpha’s glands in person isn’t it?” Damiano asked, surprisingly confident for being in this vulnerable position.

“Mhm,” you confirmed, licking over the glands, which rested just below the testes. Your tongue continued to the root of Damiano’s cock. He hissed with sensitivity. Unsure if it was positive, you gave the other side the same treatment, this time a bit gentler.

“They’re really sensitive, baby, be careful,” Damiano warned. Instead of larger motions, you used the tip of your tongue to lightly trace the opening of each gland. Your touch was barely even there, but that seemed to be plenty of stimulation as Dami’s thighs clamped down around your head. You sensed movement above you as he started working his own cock. Taking this is a good sign, you continued your ministrations on the other side.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he groaned, shifting his pelvis. You shook your head between his legs, and took his balls into your mouth, one at a time. Each time you sucked on the soft, sensitive skin, you caressed the round shape of his testicle with your tongue. Damiano cursed and his unoccupied hand moved to your hair. It was almost preferable this way, you didn’t have to attempt to memorize and maintain the perfect rhythm for Dami. He did this for himself, allowing you to explore.

Wondering if his prostate was in the same place, you pressed a thumb between his scent glands, right underneath his sack, searching for that sweet spot. This was the special move you’d perfected over the last year since you’d lost your virginity. Older girls at school were gossiping about it, so you’d found yourself a diagram and a partner to test things out. If you managed to stimulate someone’s prostate externally, it was always obvious. Their legs would cramp down and spasm, fighting to maintain contact. It took considerably longer with Damiano, but you managed to locate his p-spot, and he nearly kneed you in the face.

“What the – what!? Oh my god,” he moaned. You kept pressure with your thumb while also returning to flicking his scent glands with your tongue. Who knew how much could be achieved on the male form without the gift of suction or friction. Damiano started to arch, not just up, but into you. His hand began working frantically, and you devoted yourself to continuing exactly what you’d been doing. Consistency was key and he yanked his cock ruthlessly. You could tell Damiano was near the edge by the tension in his body, by the way his moans climbed in pitch. The moment before release he was whining in a way you never imagine an alpha could, sounding just as desperate as any man, no hint of bravado.

Damiano came down the otherside rocking his groin against your face, milking his shaft to release rope after rope of cum. He looked down at himself, so focused, yet eyes always fluttering or even rolling back in his head. When the spunk no longer streamed from his dick, Dami still pulled at his member ruthlessly, until the sensation made him shiver in overstimulation. Only then did he let his exhausted cock rest. Getting the sense that he was done,, you sat up on your heels instead of crouching between his legs.

Damiano was flushed, sweaty, and panting. You rubbed his flank as he came back into his body, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. It made you wonder how many times this is what he had craved around you, and how often he refused that urge. On so many occasions, he must have been painfully pent-up, nearly bursting from the efforts of self control. Dami could have just asked. If your lips between his legs was all that he required to orgasam, it was a small request indeed.

“You didn’t even try to finish,” he observed. You felt self-conscious, looking down at your body, unsure what to say.

“It just takes me a long time, so I’ve never tried doing it in front of someone else.”

“Huh.” He sounded genuinely intrigued, his eyes scanning your form, much more discerning than you’d like. Dami had probably been with other girls that could masturbate to completion for him. The situation left you jealous of the capabilities of people you’d never met.

Or perhaps you had met them, considering how Damiano got around. In fact, you had no idea who he’d slept with, but undoubtedly you’d interacted with a few of them in total ignorance. Had they known who you were? Did they think you were a fool?

“Why did you focus on your clit?”

“What?” This wasn’t a line of questioning you’d expected.

“I mean, if it takes you a long time to cum, why waste you time on your clit? Why didn’t you finger your scent glands?” Without meaning to, you release an exasperated sigh. Omega scent glands were internal, and highly sensitive. They were responsible for the production of slick. Unfortunately, you struggled to find yours, the same way beta’s struggled to find their clit.

“They’re really high up or something. I can never find them.” Dami looked vexed by this answer and you wanted to snap at him. As a sexually liberated alpha you were just bracing for the lecture about failing to embrace your sexuality. If you just embraced it, masturabating would be easy. In essence, you were holding yourself back. This messaging was blasted at you from a culture so sex positive it became toxic.

“I could show you.” His eyes were careful, but his face devoid of judgment. “I understand if that’s more sexual contact than you’re comfortable with, of course.” You made a face, nose scrunched as you weighed your options. “What are you thinking?” he prompted.

“Well…” You let out an exasperated huff. “I’m pretty sure they’re not in a normal place so what if you figure that out and don’t want me because I’m deformed.” Damiano had one eyebrow cocked, smiling in amusement.

“What!?” He threw his hands up in concession.

“Your slick production is normal, your hormones are normal, so anything wrong with your glands is only going to bother you. So unless they have teeth, I’m really not worried.” You sigh, nodding. It's humorous how serious the conversation has become before the jizz on Dami’s chest has even cooled.

“Okay, so should I just…?”

“Lay on your back,” he instructed, pulling his boxers back on. You’re of half a mind to complain about his state of partial dress. Stacking a couple pillows on top of eachother, you rest on the bed, feeling a weird combination of naked and covered with your breasts fully exposed, but also still wearing wool socks. Dami pulls his pants back on, looking way more sexy than he has the right to. You let out a groan of complaint, and he gives you a full, shining smile.

“I think it's best if only one of us has our underwear off at a time.” The view of his canines reminds you of last week, or was it a lifetime ago? When he’d come to your defense, in full alpha headspace, but you felt unafraid. Gia’s older sister had said that one of the most offputting things about sex with alphas is the shift in appearence. The teeth, the darkened eyes, muscles flexing, but you’d been unbothered.

“Why didn’t you change, just now?”

“I, um –” he clears his throat, crawling towards you. “Well, I tried not to. I know it can be, um…when I’m able to, I try to avoid it.” He’s shy about something, not meeting your eyes.

“What?”

“It’s uh…” he sighs and looks out the window. “I really freaked someone out once, when I had just turned 15. I guess they thought that, like, that, it was a myth, a scary story.” He finally meets your eyes, wincing.

“Oh, no. It was bad? Screaming, crying, running, the whole horror show?” Beta’s had a tendency for treating alphas and omegas like fantastical creatures, with the myths and legends to match.

“Yeah,” he lets out a huff, turning to face you. “And when his parents came to see what was wrong, I was still…”

“Exposed?”

“Mhm, it was horrendous.” He flops down next to you, and the intimacy of laying on your bed together makes you feel warm, even if you’re talking about a former hookup. Damiano leans his head against yours.

“Sounds traumatizing for both of you.” He nods, and laces your hands together. So this is what people mean when they talk about butterflies.

You forget how little empathy and softness is allotted to male alphas. Just treating Damiano like a person built rapport. He lifts your hands up where you can see them, lacing and unlacing, like a flower blooming. Every brush of skin is a rush, and you finally understood Dami’s reasoning. Sure, you could very well hurry from meeting to knotting, but he wanted time for these moments, when holding someone’s hand feels a little forbidden and so exciting. If someone’s knotted you, there’s no thrill from lining your palms up exactly.

“Must have been hard, everyone having sympathy for him, but not you, even though someone treated you like a monster in the middle of sex for something your couldn’t help.”

“You know, I never thought of it like that.” He turns onto his side, and you do the same, almost kissing. It's wonderfully humanizing to observe flaws in Damiano. He hasn’t plucked his eyebrows and his patchy stubble is starting to show. He had a freckle in the hollow of his cheek that you can barely see and two blemishes near his cupid’s bow.

“You’re very symmetrical,” you whisper, brushing a curl that had fallen in front of his eye. His hair is long, just past his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and there’s a hint of adoration in his expression which completely throws you off guard.

“Well, you get called hot all the time, so I have to use some originality.”

“You know, actually I don’t. My mom’s friends are big fans, though.” There's no ego, it's an honest response. He’s not performing. You hadn't realized how much intention Damiano put into presenting himself, until he wasn’t allocating any energy to the task. His skin is soft, but the softness went beyond that. His expression was careful, his face relaxed, and his smile modest. Perhaps that softness had more to do with what wasn’t there: a system of defense. His hold to maintain control was so tight, but now that you’d helped him cum, he could decompress. You realize you've never seen him not battling impulses.

“Hi there.” Reintroducing yourself in a hushed tone only feels appropriate. You rub your nose against his, so close you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Hey,” he responds, eyes focused on your lips. Knowing you’re about to get completely lost, you fight to remember the point that felt so important to make.

“I’m not, I don’t mind,” you sigh. Damiano shifts his eyes back up, curious. “The change, I don’t mind. I’ve already seen it, it doesn't scare me.”

“It’s not a big thing,” he assures, analyzing your expression closely.

“I just hate the idea of you holding anything back,” you justify and Dami stops breathing. “Even if it’s possible to do, I want to see you change if that's what comes naturally. You waste your energy maintaining control when that's never been what I want or need.” You’re halfway through letting out a breath when you find yourself flipped on your back, with Damiano crouching over you. He rests on one knee, which he’s using to apply pressure to your groin. It leaves you squirming, unsure if you’re allowed to grind down on it.

“Did I say something –”

“You didn’t say anything wrong,” he purrs, and lowers himself, licking up the valley of your breasts. He gets a forearm under the small of your back then nips at your stomach, lifting your body up to meet him. He knows you’ve never been bit before, and you’re both aware that your stomach is the most sensitive part of the body. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and look at the ceiling, waiting for whatever he chooses.

The apprehension is excruciating, but the brush of his neck while scenting you is a sweet resolution. All those subsequent happy chemicals start to blur the edges of your vision, so you jump when his lips finally return to your body, delivering a sweet kiss. You’re about to compliment him for being gentle when he begins sucking a hickey into your left breast, just under the existing one. That spot is going to be sore tomorrow. The arm under your back forces you to endure this as well, as does his tongue which licks all the low places on your chest where sweat might collect. Eyes closed, your body curves into every touch. He’s painful one moment and soothing the next. You end up debating whether to fight omega headspace, or let yourself slip away under the attention of an alpha.

“Y/n,” he summons your attention. It takes you a moment to focus, but clear vision isn’t needed to observe his eyes which have turned charcoal black. He looks up from your body, without words saying “this is who I am. I’m taking the risk of showing you.” Damiano doesn’t even bother to hide the insecurity behind alphaism. The sight of anyone bearing these characteristics should make you cower with fear, but Dami is your alpha, and you have never been afraid.

“You are magnificent.” Your index finger traces the bridge of his nose, booping the tip affectionately. He seems to accept this, relaxing his mouth so his top lip isn’t covering his canines. Alpha teeth look sharper in person than you expected, but given their purpose is to pierce through flesh, it makes sense.

Testing you, he rises up to your neck, breathing in deep, letting out a rumbling that borders on a growl. He snaps his teeth near your ear, implying a threat to mark you. However, you know that Dami would never do such a thing without asking, so the threat is empty.

“I’m not afraid of you.” You cup his cheeks in both hands, noticing that his dark lashes are the perfect framing for his new features. He must see this affection in your eyes, and for a very brief moment, Damiano looks like he might cry. Instead, he relaxes against you, resting some of his weight on your form, pressing your foreheads together. It's so intimate that with anyone else you’d close your eyes, but Dami doesn’t, so you don’t either.

“I see you.”

“I see you,” he nods. For now, those sentences mean drastically different things. You join in, and the act of nodding with your foreheads pressed together is so silly looking that he smiles, and takes a deep breath.

“How much experience do you have with omega headspace?”

“Nothing substantial.” Damiano holds himself up on one elbow, propping his head in his hand. Its comforting to have the weight of his body resting on you, so warm you’re beginning to perspire.

“I know you’ve never been with an alpha before, but you can explore it on your own, no?”

“Have you ever realized that you overslept for something important while you were still dreaming? And you wake up in this disorienting panic?”

“Christ, that's how it feels?” His eyes switch back to hazel in the span of one blink.

“When there's no one to give control to, yeah. So you can’t ever truly let go, but some for people it's still worth it. Not me, I like control.”

“Yeah I know,” he murmurs, brushing hair away from your face as you had his. You’d forgotten how nice it was to have your hair played with and you let out a sigh. Closing your eyes now won’t be perceived as rejection, so you do, turning your head towards his hand. It's the first time Damiano has seen you totally relaxed, and you look angelic. It's a reminder of your inexperience, and he immediately questions his choice to guide and educate, rather than preserve certain parts of your innocence. However, the fact that you trust him this deeply, having seen exactly who he is, leaves Damiano without the choice to walk away. He’s hooked.

For the first couple minutes, Damiano stroking your head is wonderful, but it causes other parts of your body to demand attention with distracting insistence. You have to resist squirming underneath his touch. You want to seek out more pressure, stimulation, or just something. Because you’ve never had this much physical contact with him before, and its awakening desires you couldn’t put a name to. Despite the hormone suppressants, your body is reacting to his pheromones and musculature, revealed by his bare chest.

Out of curiosity, you open your eyes, unsure if you’ll find hazel of midnight black. It’s the latter and his brow is furrowed in thought. The tips of his canine teeth press into his plush lower lip. You’re too hot, not like the radiant heat of a fire, but like a fever.

“You’re not relaxed,” he observes, and only then are you aware of your breathing.

“Oh,” you gasp, trying to calm your rapid oxygen intake. “Yeah, I’m really warm.” You fan yourself and Damiano turns his head, face scrupulous.

“All of your muscles are tense.” He’s observing you with the kind of objectivity that's insulting. It reminds you of him rattling off your symptoms a couple days ago. You didn’t want Damiano to be capable of being impersonable. You wanted to affect him to the point that it made his life difficult, because that's what he did to you.

“Did I pull your hair?”

“Huh?”

“Or am I too heavy?” He starts adjusting and as a result his locks brush against your nipples. You grimace in an effort not to make a noise. However, his knee is wedged between your legs again and you can’t help the pitiful sound that escapes. Nor can you help the impulse to grind down as hard as you can, regardless of what's permitted. He smirks, and the realization that Dami knew what he was doing all along has you swiping at his shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” he protests, eyeing switching back to hazel as he giggles.

“Mean!” you proclaim, getting a hold of a pillow and hitting him upside the head. “Rude, very rude!” You flip onto your side, pouting, with your arms crossed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he croons, laying behind you. Dami presses his face to your scalp and takes a deep, self indulgent breath. He rolls his hips up so he’s spooning you, cock half-mast. Damiano’s entirely bare chest is pressed to your entirely bare back, creating a position you could likely masturabate to completion in. You’re wracked by a full body shudder as he scoots infinitesimally closer to you. Now this is intimate.

Birth control and suppressants are not enough to overpower your biological reaction to this much skin to skin contact with an alpha. Your heart rate starts to speed up and laying still feels impossible, even though you’d rather die than move from this exact spot. The kinetic energy building in your pelvis had you on the verge of screaming, or combusting. All you could do was rub your thighs together desperately while Damiano took his sweet ass time savoring your presence.

“This is really nice,” he whispers into your ear, voice husky. Suddenly the realization hits that he got to cum and you haven't. You take the hand that rests on your side and pull it onto your stomach, slowly sliding down. The hand directing his shook with anticipation, as Dami showed no signs of objecting.

“Please touch me,” you begged as you pushed his hand into your underwear. There's no point in maintaining your pride, when you’d far rather have the ability to plead. He slides his right hand between your legs, cupping your vulva. You sort of can’t believe he’s touching you here. Maybe it's the pheromones that make it feel like a transcendent experience. His hand is sure, providing pressure and warmth, slick dripping between his fingers. You roll your pelvis against him, prompting Dami to move, but he doesn’t. You cannot be held responsible for any desperate whining that occurred in protest. Why won’t he do anything?

“I’m taking off your shorts and underwear” he narrates in your ear. You like that he doesn’t ask. It's better that he didn’t ask. Wiggling out of the remainder of your clothes isn’t as dignified as you’d like it to be. Using your left foot, you fling them off the end of the bed. Immediately you open your legs and Damiano slides his hand in between. The lack of fabric lets you pin his hand there, by squeezing your thighs shut. He allows you to enjoy the presence and warmth from your clit to your opening. Taking liberties, you grind harshly against his hand, holding it in place by his wrist. Hearing no protest you try rubbing your thighs together again. Having something between them this time was so satisfying that you start rutting into his palm, and don’t police the moans that come forth.The slick dripping from your cunt starts to make the soft tissue at the largest part of your thigh stick together.

“Let me know when your done treating my hand like a sex toy,” Dami whispers, smile audible. You feel yourself flush with embarrassment so hard that it aches in your chest. Looking up at him, he eyes are still somehow kind, despite being void of color.

“Sorry,” you squeak, stilling.

“Don’t apologize,” he purrs directly into your ear. Each approving hum is punctuated by his tongue swiping at the extremely sensitive follicles in your ear canal. You relax your legs and Dami stretches out his hand. Immediately, you’re a little bit horrified for being in such a horny frenzy that you nearly dislocated his fingers. This is offset by his good natured chuckle against your cheek. This gives you courage.

“Will you take your jeans off?”

“I – um, I”

“For the skin contact,” you clarify. He nods behind you, rescinding his hand and rolling onto his back. The vein on his forehands stands out as he lifts his hips to remove them. Once his pants are shed, also thrown off the side of the mattress, Dami puts his attention to other matters. He readjusts his hard cock, tucking the head under the waistband of his boxers, to minimize the sensation of being stabbed in the back. Then he flips back over to embrace you, and presses your bodies together in every way possible. One leg rests between yours, parting your thighs. It's such a rush that you make a sound like the wind being knocked out of you. In that moment, Damiano could have started with three fingers and you’d take them happily. You’re sweating, pussy dripping, but he didn't make you wait. Damianos pushes one finger inside to the hilt.

“More, more,” you beg, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He inserts a second digit and has to clamp a hand over your mouth.

“Uhh, uh, oh my god.”

“Shh,” he quieted. You didn’t care. You really didn’t care how loud you were, not even slightly, not even enough to be decent. You were entirely indecent as Damiano pushed two fingers inside, deep enough to brush your scent glands. Your hips bucked against his palm, then missed the contact of his body so you glued against Damiano’s form where he lay behind you.

“And those are your scent glands.” His mouth was parted in focus, displaying his teeth, whose shape only made your cunt throb. His gaze was directed down to his hand, hair falling in front of his face and tickling your shoulder. Despite the change, Damiano’s expression was so clearly that of careful concentration. His eyes flitted back up to check on you, and found himself being admired. He grinned and you could see the vein on his temple, the flex of his jaw. Perfectly collected Dami, in his element, was not collected at all, but he was free.

His embrace was steady and consistent, every other touch left you shaking. Once you realized that Damiano was keeping his hand over your mouth, you stopped worrying and let yourself slip into sensation, letting out whatever cries of pleasure were prompted. You were floating in your own head, so thankful for being spooned by your alpha, because otherwise there would be no anchor.

“More, please. Please, more, please. Dami please!”

“Shh, breath. You’re okay, y/n.” His contact with your scent glands became more substantial, which was impressive considering he was doing this completely blind. The sensation was like a bolt of electricity to the core of your pelvis. It hurt, or rather it contained the idea of pain which was totally overpowered by the sensation of crippling pleasure. Maybe it was all an expression of intensity. Maybe you were so lost in this soul deep satiation that you were trying to make sense of the nonsensical.

You kicked Damiano in the shin bone as your body tried to externalize some of this unmanageable sensation. Your grip on the bedding ripped the fitted sheet up.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Dami reminded you. However, you knew you were okay and what could possibly suggest otherwise when you were experiencing more pleasure than you had in your entire life.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I wish you could see yourself,” he admired.

“More, more,” you demanded through gritted teeth.

“You might not be ready for three. Baby, take a breath.” You tried to inhale, but it got caught in your throat as Damaino managed to find a new place inside you that had never been touched. Accidentally, you bit down on his hand. It wasn’t a thought out impulse, just the first thing that came to mind. You didn’t make the connection to where the urge came from in time to stop it.

He wasn’t cruel. Damiano wouldn’t penalize you within a couple minutes of an orgasam you’d obviously needed more than he’d understood. He could appreciate that this was his own failing to an extent. Instead Dami put his fingers into your mouth, and sucking on his pointer and middle finger seemed to render you content.

Biting Dami’s hand then sucking on his digits caused you to sink into a new head space that was deeply primal. You couldn’t have opened your eyes if you wanted to. You felt like his pup, a position of total submission. You didn’t need sight, nor taste and smell. All you needed to be Damiano’s pup was the ability to feel and hear his directions, and then obey.

“Three, three, three, three,” you chanted.

“Baby, I don’t want to tear your hymen or hurt you or –”

“Three, three. Please, three.” Your voice was wracked with tears. The urge to cry was inexplicable, there was nothing to prompt such a reaction. Yet there you were, fears falling from your eyes to his hand that you suckled like a pup. He let out a sigh and gave you three.

Damiano had been right, it was too much. This was a bad position to take three fingers, so you opened your hips more by hooking your heel over his thigh. Still, it stung. Where there should have been whines of discomfort, out come sounds of deranged pleasure. Tears fell from your eyes and Damiano had to apply some force to get to the last knuckle. It was too much, you felt too full, and maybe that's why you’d craved it in the first place. Maybe you’d known this was more than your body could take, and you’d done so anyway to appease some convoluted desire that you didn’t understand.

“I can’t knot you, I’m sorry.” That was the name of the yearning: a knot. So easily you’d been reduced to your biology, but instead of fear, you felt freedom. Damiano interprets your tears as pain, which they may will be. You had no idea what was going on, only that sucking on Dami’s fingers brought you comfort.

He switches back to a single digit and adjusts so every inch of him is pressed against every inch of you. He uses that one digit to stimulate your scent glands at a pace that brings you to orgasam. You almost yelped in surprise when a rush of slick wetted your and Damiano’s thighs. It seemed that sensation was building and building, until you arrived at a peak so suddenly that you were surprised to find yourself free falling into climax. Dami didn’t abandon you. He remained cupped over your vulva just as you had positioned it, holding you close. The fingers on his other hand, still in your mouth. As self awareness returned you startled, feeling unable to open your eyes. Damiano felt you wince and started soothing you with his words.

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere. This is normal.” His thumb whipped the tears you hadn’t realized were falling and the hand that had been between your legs moved to rub your tummy. He started humming in your ear, melodies that sounded vaguely familiar bleeding into one another. It felt like a mediation until you, a grown ass woman, realized she had someone’s hand in her mouth.

“And you’re back,” he chuckled as you spit out his fingers and cringe in disgust.

“Ew, what the fuck?” You rough wiped at the tears on your cheeks, then the drool around your mouth. “What the fuck?” you repeated, this time more hysterical.

“How do you feel? I didn’t mean for you to slip into headspace. It's never happened like this before.” You know Dami doesn’t mean any offense, but it still makes you self conscious. “I would have prepared you, I’m sorry.”

“I mean I’m…fine.” You turn onto your back while he observes you closely. Your eyes are drawn downward, to the wet spot at the top of Dami’s boxers. He follows your gaze, bashfully.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um…it’s just – it’s just if you had seen yourself. Like, holy shit, but I know –”

“It’s actually kind of affirming, Dami, don't worry about it.” You gesture to the tissue box, which he uses to clean two ejacutions worth of jizz off his chest. Your brain begins to process the last however long.

“Oh my god I…I – why?”

“You didn’t do anything strange, don’t worry,” he calms. “I’ve just never seen someone slip into omegan headspace like that before.” Upon observing your expressions, Damiano immediately backpedals. “And that's not a bad thing! There's just always been some barriers, but you’re not put off by the change, so…” He trails off, beaming. How anyone could find this terrifying after knowing Dami is beyond you. His expression was full of so much sweetness and vulnerability. Your chest swells with the knowledge that you’ve validated him or your dynamic, in some way.

“Is my…like am I still –”

“Vampire Damiano? Yes you are. I thought you could feel the change.” His behavior had suggested as much.

“I can, it’s just…your face,” he grins.

“What's wrong with my face?” you demand, purposefully indignant.

“Nothing! Nothing! I like your face. I’m just not used to this reaction. It's a nice surprise. It’s really really nice.” After everything, this somehow makes you blush, but you can’t resist the urge to tease him a little bit.

“So that thing you said about wanting me to date other people in the meantime so I could be sure.” Damiano lets out a snarl, but it's playful and nothing else. He starts poking at your sides, testing if you’re ticklish. Once he gets you laughing, Dami pins you to the bed with his weight.

“Mine,” he growls in your ear. “Mine. Mine. Mine!”

Notes: Depressive mood swing over, fan fiction up! Any spacing issues are due to Tumblr barely letting me upload this due to its size. As always I live for external validation and thanks for reading (and waiting)!

taglist: @asianhawkeye @biancathecool @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @bohemianrainbow @boyswillbeexecutied @butkutee @ch3rryk4ii @cuzimitaliano @damoriaa @daisy0gf @donuts247usa @elvirabelle @ethaneskin @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @homesicam @iamtashaquinn @idyllicbutterfly @immrbrightsideeee @iosonoarina @ilwiwbysmv @katyldamusic @l0standn0tf0und @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @minnietmouse @obiw4n @ohdamiano @que--sera--sera @teacosea @teenyweenynightghost @thatonebraziliangirl @thegeminisgirl @theimpossiblehologramtree @solacestyles @stardustingold @superchrystaldrug @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @woahzz11 @xweirdxsceletton @dustyinkpages @the-chaotic-cow

#damiano #maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #damiano maneskin #omegaverse maneskin #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #damiano david fluff #damiano david smut #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david x reader #damiano david imagine #maneksin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin x reader #maneskin fluff

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leggerefiore · 2 years

Note

Ayo I saw something like this a while back

Can you imagine you fall into Hisui but you kept all your memories and you keep going through all this bs cause Arceus. ANYWAYS you see Ingo but like it’s obvious he doesn’t remember you cause your husband is a big baby and would’ve been hugging you in an instant, but you continue on dropping hints or at least trying to his memory in the right direction.

To him your a stranger but for some reason he feels so much love when with you, his brain is confused but his heart is screaming in pure love.

But it’s not till he sees you get absolutely bodied does he truly remember you. Be it from Lord Electrode or an alpha Pokémon, or hell he is walking through the village towards the training grounds and the guards are screaming to get a nurse ready and you’re being carried in.

Idk makes good hurt comfort in theory

ik ur ask didn't inspire me into 3000 words...

anyways:

My Sweet Lord

cw: blood and injury mention,

words: 3349

One moment, Ingo said he was going to investigate some strange light that had appeared in a tunnel. You, feeling clingy, asked to tag along. He had considered you for a moment before relenting. The tunnels always felt a bit eerie to you, as large concrete tombs meant for only vehicles and trained staff to explore. His arm moved to block you when the anomaly came into a view. A strange, white portal with odd black clouds surrounding it. Ingo yelled for you to run. Suddenly, a strange suction overcame you both, pulling you to the blinding lights. You screamed alongside him, panic leading you to try and escape, but the power of the force was impossible to escape. Desperately, you reached out for your husband. Just before you hand could grasp his gloved one, he slipped into the portal.

Tears burned your eyes as it began to shrink. No! You refused to be taken away from him. Running towards the lessening pull, you felt your body get consumed by a strange airlessness. An empty void all around, not a sound to be heard. Well, until a strange pulsing, glowing form appeared before you. A voice echoed heavily into your ears, willing you to the apparent 'Arceus'. It warned you of entry to a strange world and demanded you seek out all pokemon in order to find them once more.

Then, darkness consumed the nothingness around you.

You landed on a beach, being jostled awake by a strange man. Moving away, you blinked a few times. This place… Was not Unova. Not at all. It was soon after that you were informed of your entry in Hisui. You were unsure of the word but recalled something in an article about how Sinnoh received its name. That was impossible. You could not have been well over two hundred years into the past.

It was true, unfortunately. You came to realise as the supposed Professor Laventon pleaded for your assistance in gathering his unruly pokemon in pokeballs. Pokeballs that were not made of the modern plastic or metal but, rather, wood. You caught them with ease, having been a trainer in your youth. Technically, you still were recreationally. Nothing like your husband, of course. Speaking with Laventon, he promised an attempt to earn you a place to live in Jublife Village, but nothing concrete.

You were put through the absolute ringer. That was sarcasm, of course. Catching a Starly, Shinx, and Bidoof felt almost humiliating as a task. You pet the Bidoof while you were welcomed to the Survey Corps and given a uniform by Captain Cyllene. Your assignment, naturally, was to complete the pokedex. You felt ten years old again despite being well into your twenties.

Your life fell into a strange lull of catching pokemon, battling a frenzied noble when entering a new area, and dealing with whatever drama the Galaxy Team or the clans decided to toss out. Currently, you were on your way out after calming Lord Arcanine of the Cobalt Coastlands. What waited outside your door had you stop dead in your tracks.

Ingo, your husband, was passing by. His head turned to you. Mentally, you readied yourself for the touching reunion between the two of you. No movements were made by the man, however. Suddenly, you noticed his condition. Pristine work coat had clearly lost a battle with something that had claws, white button down was replaced with a Pearl Clan tunic, and his gloves were completely gone. "Good morning, fellow who came from the sky! Commander Kamado told me to let you know he awaits your arrival in his office," he spoke, his voice a bit more muted than its usual volume. You nodded, and he walked off somewhere.

That was Ingo… Right? You were certain it had to be. No one else could have his coat, hat, slacks, and shoes. That was Ingo. "Ingo!" you called out. His head turned around to look at you. Confusion was present on his face. Oh, no. What do you say now? His eyes showed no recognition of you. It hurt. "Uh, what's that ring on your finger?" you blurted out, unsure if it was still even on. He lifted his left hand to his vision and gazed at it carefully. "Ah, well, you know… I'm not quite sure," he answered, twirling it around, "I believe it symbolises something important to me. How about yours?" Ah, observant as always. "Marriage. My husband bought it for me," you explained simply. Would he catch on? Ingo nodded before walking off.

Kamado instructed you to handle the next frenzied Noble, Electrode, as usual. A newcomer, Warden Melli, barged in and made a scene which led to you having to battle Adaman. After that, Cyllene went over the particulars of the mission to you before checking to make sure that you were at a high enough rank to even go enter the highlands. You were, of course. Most of your time had been dedicated to the pokedex, desperate to 'seek all pokemon' as commanded.

You headed to the training grounds, where apparently both Ingo and Irida awaited you. It felt strange seeing him again. He still gazed at you with unknowing eyes, which stung you harshly. Irida greeted you with a new kindness, thankful for your help and some of her growth from the coastlands. "Hello! This gentleman is Warden Ingo, who serves Sneasler," she explained, motioning to him. He stood stiffly, a bit blankly even. It was not necessarily abnormal for Ingo to lack movement and expression, words were his forte while Emmet's was expression, yet he seemed too muted.

Even still, you were not all too surprised Ingo had become a Warden. He was an amazing trainer with unbelievable patience. It was hard to resist the urge to lean into his side, as you had always done. Ingo used to be so adamantly against PDA, fearing it would make him look unprofessional. That changed as you slowly grew closer and closer. Now, however, it felt impossible. Ingo did not know you at all.

"Pleased to properly meet you. I apologize for the abrupt how-do-you-do before. I am the warden Ingo," he introduced himself correctly, hand going behind his back and the other tipping his hat slightly. His phrasing reminded you of his introduction on the Single Battle Line. Another small needle into your slowly shifting heart into a pushpin. "I understand you’ll need a hand from Sneasler in order to meet Electrode. Whether she’ll see fit to help you, however, we can only find out by making the journey. Now, let’s have a safe journey to Mount Coronet! All aboard!" The last phrase was enunciated with a familiar pose.

Oh, Ingo. You found yourself giggling at his antics. His posing stopped as he stared at you carefully, a light pink making the smallest hint across his cheeks. Irida darted her eyes between you two before speaking, "He's a bit like you, you know." It was hard to not smile at that statement. Irida, dear girl, you have no idea. "Oh, how so?" you asked back, controlling your tone coolly. "Well, he appeared one day from who-knows-where," she began while Ingo nodded in confirmation, "What's more, much of his memory seems to be missing. Maybe travelling with you will help fill in some of the gaps in his memory."

You certainly would like to try. Out of everyone in Hisui, you were probably the person who wanted his memories to return the most. They parted from you with a simple goodbye and a promise to reunite in the highlands. Naturally, you immediately went after them. Ingo waited for you in front of a cave, stance a bit tired. It was nighttime, after all. "Hi, Ingo," you greeted him with an awkward hand wave. It was strange. You usually met him with a kiss to his cheek and a long hug. Dinner sitting on the table as he blabbed to you about his day. You truly missed Unova. Running water was a sacred gift, and you would kill for a nice bath. Especially one with Ingo.

"Hello…" his voice trailed off, like his thought got lost somewhere in the space between his brain and his mouth, "May I ask something?" You were caught off-guard but nodded. "You do realise that you have been speaking to me in another language this entire time, correct?" Had you? The language of Hisui was something you had to learn from Laventon, a fellow Galarian speaker. Of course, Ingo was someone you subconsciously would respond to in that language.

"Ah, sorry! This is what they speak where I'm from, Unova," you wondered if the word would jog anything in his brain. He nodded. "You know… In my world, there's these crazy strong trainers. Uh, do you know what a trainer is?"

He shook his head, "I don't believe that I do. The word does seem familiar, however…" His hand stroked his goatee. Poor, baby… Ingo hated whenever he was able to go without a shave. Though, he was certainly pulling it off.

"Well, they are people who train pokemon. Simple, right? My husband is one of them, along with his twin brother," you explained, leaning into his side as he guided you through the cave. A direct approach would likely scare him off. As much as you hated it, a subtle, hinting manner would prove more beneficial.

"Your husband… You mentioned him before. He gave your ring to you, right?" Ingo asked curiously, silver eyes glinting with something else. You nodded with a small smile. "I think I was married, too. I can't remember much at all…" He stopped and closed his eyes. A moment of silence was had, "I'm starting to recall a man who looked… like me. We'd battle and discuss Pokémon, I think… The words "I like winning more than anything else" flashed through my mind just now…" Emmet. You wished to say his name. Why did you not? Ingo deserved to know of his twin brother.

"Funny that is… I have a friend who said things like that back in Unova. He was a Subway Boss, Emmet," you prodded his memory carefully. Ingo froze completely for a moment. He shook his head suddenly before continuing on. Though, you heard him mutter a 'Your combination is the best, perfect!' under his breath. Leaving it alone, you continued to walk with him.

He guided you through the highlands with ease, never straying too far from you. It was filled with mild conversation or a comfortable silence. Never once did he comment on your close proximity to him. In fact, a few times he even leaned into you or brushed his hand against yours. No longer that soft, spongy hands you could recall. His body seemed harder, too. Had he put on muscle? You could not imagine. Not your twig of a husband.

Stopping before a steep cliff, he looked up at it. Clearing his throat, he spoke again, "You would never expect to be able to climb such sheer cliffs as these, yes? But with Sneasler as an ally, it becomes the work of a moment. She is so at home on a cliff face, one might think she knew some secret— some hidden move…" Ingo seemed constantly on the verge of recollection but never able to truly climb over the cliff. He shook his head. You knew he was doubting himself. A longing overcame you to cup his cheeks and reassure him that he was doing everything perfectly right.

"What am I saying? Hidden moves? There are no such things in Hisui, surely… Yet I feel as though I was on the cusp of remembering something just now… Just who was I before I came to Hisui?" he questioned himself more so than you, "If you fell from the sky… you come from another world altogether, most likely. Perhaps a pokemon battle with you would jog this memory loose… Would you honor me with a battle, my dear?" The term of endearment made heat return to your cheeks. "Of course, Ingo," you grabbed one of your pokeballs, "I… want to thank you, for listening to me. You remind me so much of my husband…" Tears burned your eyes as you took form across from him.

Ingo stared at you, a look of hurt in his eyes. "I see. Well, all aboard, then! Machoke, prepare for departure!" he yelled out, volume more reminiscent of what you heard around the station. His Machoke was sent out, and you imitated him with your partner. A harsh battle soon followed. Ingo's skill as a trainer had not at all lessened from his memory loss. He kept you on your toes as he always had. It was something you loved about him, his competitive spirit. In the end, however, you came out victorious. His eyes closed, and a small smile came across his face.

You were introduced to Lady Sneasler before Ingo announced his departure. Part of you wished to beg for him to stay, but you knew that he would be unable to help you with whatever was to follow. An Electrode, huh? You could only hope they were not as fond of exploding as their modern counterparts.

Melli served as a deterrent once more before finally relenting from Adaman's scolding. Now, the arena was yours to battle. Carefully, you took a deep breath. Nearly dying for a fourth time, an exciting event to be sure. The next few minutes proved your wishes untrue and led to much more pain than necessary. You would bear it; you needed to. In order to get yourself, and Ingo, home, these Nobles needed to be calmed and the pokedex finished. A well-timed explosion caught you off-guard before everything returned to the void once more.

Your screams echoed through the mountain. Ingo's trek home stopped. Anxiety burst through his veins as his heart raced a speed which was surely unhealthy. His flute was played, and the mountain was scaled. His feet refused to stop moving until he observed your status with his own eyes. The Moonview Arena had a small crowd around it. Melli looked terrified while Adaman knelt beside something. Team Galaxy members, guards and medics stood around. Ingo shoved his way through.

A loud sob escaped him as he saw your injured state. Everyone backed away from the volume of his voice. Adaman moved from you to allow the Warden a place at your side. His memories crashed into him like a freight train. The shock and trauma of seeing you so bloodied and battered… Ingo was overcome with brutal emotions. His partner, his spouse… His lover. Your hand was grasped by the silver-haired man. Pleas for you to wake up, to not leave him racked through his system.

A guard had to drag him away from you as they rushed you back to Jublife Village. Barely could they remove him. The ring was now a heavy burden on his left hand. Melli stared at him as if were mad while Adaman asked, "… You were close to them, weren't you?"

"They are my spouse. I love them more than anything…" he managed to get out, "How could I forget someone so precious to me? I should have never let them come with me in that tunnel." The Diamond Clan members were confused. You would have cleared the caves of the highlands with or without Ingo, surely. Of course, Ingo was referring to how both of you ended up here. He should have made you stay in his office. There, you would have been safe from all the dangers posed by Hisui.

Irida heard his story with a heavy heart. She was not the type to normally force something, but her respect for the bond described by Ingo between you two had her demand that Kamado allow Ingo to see you as soon as the doctors would okay it. Hopefully this would stop Ingo's seemingly endless crying while he blames himself for every single thing that had happened to you since your arrival in Hisui.

He stays by your bedside, talking to you about anything. You do not ever respond, still unconscious. Everyone around the region is talking about the sad tale of reunion and immediate loss. His hand grasps yours, and your wedding ring is twirled around by him. Why had you not just told him? He would have believed you. From the moment his eyes had first landed on you, his heart filled with unconditional love. It confused him; the deep affection that had seemingly sprung from complete nowhere towards a stranger. Everything became worse the more that he passed at your side, and how you spoke of your homeland.

The warmth of your body at his side while he walked you through the cave was something that made him feel complete. A strange piece of him that had been missing but had finally been returned. Emmet. You even mentioned Emmet to him. Everything you did was an attempt to remind him of who he was. His lips press to your forehead as he gives you an unwilling goodbye.

Melli, strangely, apologised to him. It was in the purple-haired man's normal way of doing things, of course, but an apology was given. He appreciated the kindness. Lady Sneasler had taken to clinging to him and purring, hating that her dear Warden was so melancholic. He scratched his cheek and let her do as she pleased with him. A week passed before he knew it.

You woke up, exhausted and with your bones screaming in pain as you tried to push yourself up. A hand gently pushed you back down, forcing you to relax again. Alright, you had been absolutely bodied by Electrode. You would rest this time. "Sorry, doc… I thought I dodged in time," you joked, hoping Peselle would forgive you. "You most certainly did not dodge it 'in time'," a voice that was certainly not the pink-haired woman's own chastised you. Your head whipped over to see an extremely tired Ingo sitting beside you, hat laying on his lap while his coat hung off the back of the chair.

His eyes stared at you with a familiar stare that Emmet often got after doing something childish. This was no longer the amnesiac Ingo from before. "Uhh… hey, honey," you nervously spoke, not wanting your first moments of consciousness in who-knows-how-long to be one of Ingo's scolding rants. He could go on for literal hours. "How are you feeling, darling? Do you need a doctor?" Ingo asked, looking over you thoroughly. Oh, no. He had entered his mothering mode. The last time this happened you were banned from using knives over an accidental slice with dicing tomatoes.

"Ingo, hey, do you remember everything then? I don't think Warden Ingo would be calling me darling," you changed the subject before he could truly get started. Ingo gazed deeply into your eyes before gently grabbing your left hand. It was then brought to his lips where he pressed a kiss onto your ring. "I do. I know that you're my spouse, and that I am Subway Boss. Oh, and that I have a twin brother named Emmet," Ingo answered your question, "By the way, dear, do you mind not nearly dying? Or do I need to lock you away in my cabin? If this ever happens again, I do not believe my heart can take it."

You laughed before motioning him closer. He leaned in slowly. A flinched happened as you pulled him in for a long kiss. His eyes fluttered closed as did yours. It lasted much long than it should before he pulled away. A warm, calloused hand grabbed yours while rested his forehead to your own. "I love you more than I believe words can say," his voice was no more than a whisper. You smiled and tightened your hand around his. You had more reason to finish everything you started, but…

A little patience wouldn't hurt. No, not with Ingo at your side as support.

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon ingo x reader #ingo.ima #ENOUGH INGO POSTING TIME TO RETURN TO MR SMILEY MAN

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bebepac · 2 years

Text

Rock Bottom

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎 (Link added if you need to catch up!) The Book: TRH/ TRF The Pairings: Liam x Riley / Eleanor x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC) Word Count 3437 Song Inspiration: I Don’t Want You Back by Eamon Ratings and Warnings: Mature, 18+ , mentions of mental illness, mentions of character deaths, mention of past assault.

Summary: Nico begins a new life back in Greece with Ana. Elle struggles while in the hospital. Nico celebrates Ana’s first birthday.

Original Post: 07/17/22 at 12:15AM EST.

A/N: I’ve been crazy busy with work, and it has been affecting my writing. When you type for a living at your job, and spend sometimes typing for 12+ hours a day for a job, the last thing you want to do is come home and type recreationally. This chapter is being posted a lot later than I planned, and honestly I had planned to be done with this series by now, I have maybe two or so chapters left at the very most. This series has been fun for me, but it’s time to sprinkle some love on the other story lines that are craving attention.

Liam, Riley, Adam, and Liberty

After the press conference they walked back into the grand hall together. Liam clasped Adam on the shoulder.

“You did well in front of the press, my son. Your support for Ellie was very heartfelt.”

Adam nodded.

“It was the right thing to do, Father. May I go?”

“Of course, Adam.”

Once Adam disappeared from sight, Libby emerged from the shadows.

“What you said up there was a lie, Father. I heard what happened that night, we all did. We know the truth. I just thought you would tell us the truth, and say something to us, instead of us all hiding behind a veil of secrets, like nothing ever happened, and Ellie just evaporated into thin air.”

“Liberty….”

“I get it Father, I really do understand. This is how we protect the Crown, how we protect our own…. Ellie. She’s where she should be, to get the help she needs. What’s going to happen to her daughter?”

“Nico will be taking their daughter back to Greece, when he’s able to bottle feed her, to live a quiet life away from the public.”

“So we’ll never see her again? Either of them? Like they don’t exist? They’re our family Father.”

“Enough Liberty! We’re doing what’s best for our family!!!!” Riley screamed at Liberty.

Liberty flinched, closing her mouth.

“Riley, let her speak! Our daughter, who has always struggled to talk for most of her life, needs to say what's on her mind, and you will not silence her. Go to my study and wait for me. I will speak with Liberty.”

“Liam…”

“Now Riley!”

Riley quickly disappeared from sight.

"Father, she really loves Nico, she told me, and I believe her. Is their relationship truly over?"

"What Eleanor did to his son, I don't know that he will be able to forgive her."

"I'm an Aunt. Do you have pictures of Ellie’s daughter? What's her name?"

"Nico named her Eliana. They call her Ana for short. I have a lot of pictures and videos of her, of them together, if you’d like to see.”

Liberty watched the videos and scrolled through the pictures.

"Ellie looks so happy with the baby."

"She is."

"I've never seen her look that happy ever."

“Ever?” Liam asked.

“Look at her.”

Ellie was beaming in the video and was holding Ana in her arms, she kissed her cheeks, gregarious as she bantered with the baby, responding to her coos as if Ana was answering her, and then when she noticed Liam was taping them, she smiled at the camera, “Say hi to Pop Pop.”

“Hi Pop Pop,” she said, waving Ana’s little hand at the camera. Ellie laughed while she imitated a baby voice, pretending to be Ana.

Liam could be heard laughing off camera, Ellie’s laughing was lighthearted.

“I’ve never seen Ellie smile like that, my whole entire life.”

Liberty wouldn’t have, they found out about Ellie before Liberty was born. But he had, things had changed, when Ellie turned five. Liam realized then, that he failed Ellie. He had let Riley break Ellie down.

“I didn’t realize Ellie looked so unhappy all the time.”

"She did Father. Will she at least be able to see Ana when she goes back to the hospital?"

"Probably would not be the best thing for her and for them.”

“Can I write to her?”

“Liberty, I think that she would really like that. You are so kind.”

“She’s my sister. I miss her not being around.

It doesn’t feel the same.”

“I miss her too. Do you feel better Little Love?”

“I do, Father. Thank You.”

He gave her a quick hug.

She smiled at him. "Go, I know you need to go and talk to Mother."

Liam sighed, heading towards his study, Riley was pacing when he walked in the door. Liam sighed as he closed the door behind him.

“What?” She hissed, whirling around to face him.

“Riley we agreed on how we would handle the press conference and how we would portray Nico and Ellie to the public. You went way off script.”

“I. Backed. You. Up. Didn’t I? I think I handled myself phenomenally.

Let’s be honest here. Ellie has no one to blame but herself for her stupidity. That man is almost twice her age, he used her. Actually, both of them, were stupid. Nico's dumb ass having a mid life crisis sad over his son's death thought screwing a princess would brighten his disposition, and he knocked her up. He’s a man child. She brought a child into this world she won’t even be able to help raise.”

“And who did she learn that from?”

“What are you insinuating Liam?”

“You have not lifted a finger to positively affect Eleanor’s life, since you found out she does not have my DNA. You withheld your love from her and she saw it, and it broke something in her. What’s worse is, I allowed you to do it. The problems Ellie is now facing are our fault. She might have had a chance, if you would have been able to love her in spite of her being Drake’s child, and treated her like a second class citizen in our own home..”

“That’s not true. You can’t pray or love a mental illness away. That’s not how it works. Whatever she was going to be, she was always meant to be that. Me giving her more hugs and kisses wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.”

“You don’t know that, she was happy. We could have seen the signs sooner and got her help before she hurt someone. Things could have been different for her. She would have never gone to talk to Drake. She was looking for someone to understand her, and not judge her, that’s why she went to him, why she clung to him.

“Understanding from a madman?!?!? Sure that’s the perfect person I would trust.”

“God Dammit Riley, I am SICK OF YOUR SARCASM WHEN IT COMES TO ELLIE?!?!?! Doesn’t it mean anything to you that you carried her for NINE MONTHS?!?!?!?”

“Why are you so intent on saving her, Liam? We both know we would have ended the pregnancy then if we knew she wasn’t yours.”

“Why are you not?!?!?!?! But we didn’t terminate, and she’s here Riley. She’s here….. Do you remember telling me when Ellie was born how much you wished your mother was here, to be there for you?”

“Yes, of course I remember that, Liam.”

“YOU’RE HER MOTHER!!!!!! You’re making Ellie relive the life that you had, and you’re still alive. You could change that. You have an opportunity to be there for your daughter, the way your mother couldn’t be there for you, the way that you wanted her to be. Ellie doesn’t have to live without you in her life. Our daughter needs our help, and she needs our love and understanding. Your Love.”

“I can’t give her that Liam. I can’t. I tried. I really did. I look at her, and all I see is what he did to us, what he did to me.”

“Riley…..”

“I CAN’T!!!! I wish I could see her through your eyes. But I can’t, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Riley… she’s part of you.”

“And she’s part of HIM!!! Maybe you see her differently because you had this past with Drake growing up. You have very fond memories of the person he was to you as a child. He was your friend. I have two nights I’ve desperately tried to forget because he drugged me, and took advantage of me. And one of those nights, Ellie is the outcome of it. I can’t forget that. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but I can’t forget it.”

“Riley please….. It’s not her fault…..”

“You won’t change my mind, no matter how hard and passionate you plead her case.”

Tears stung Liam’s eyes as Riley walked out of the study.

Nico and Mama K

"Look at her!!! She's precious. She looks so happy and healthy now. She's a little butterball."

"Don’t call her fat Mama, she's perfect." He knew the credit for Ana's turnaround in health was because of Elle's care and love. Elle nursed Ana back to good health, literally.

Ana had gotten bigger, and her cheeks chubby, and her curly hair thicker. Her complexion had darkened slightly, Ana fell somewhere between his skin tone, and Elle’s. He thought she looked like a beautiful little cherub. Nico made a goofy looking face at Ana and she giggled. Nico chuckled softly, touching her face.

"And that adorable little laugh!!!! It was not meant to be an insult Nico, she's a beautiful baby. Chunky babies are happy babies, and she is well fed. She looks even more like her mother now."

"She really does. I can see Elle in her eyes."

"And she has her mother’s appetite. How did Elle take to you leaving her?"

"Hard. She was extremely hurt and angry with me. But, she's still not well."

“That didn’t stop you.”

Nico glanced down at Ana, she was holding the bottle herself as she ate. He smiled down at her, and she smiled back at him. He knew, and believed the only reason Ana was with him now, was because Elle had saved her life, and their last night together he should have handled things differently.

“No, Mama, it did not.”

“I see it all over your face Nico. You feel guilty for your actions. And the story her father told to the press was nothing but lies. You still love her. She wouldn’t have allowed you back into her bed, if she didn’t still love you as well.”

"We're no good for each other Mama. We hurt each other. She broke my heart, so I broke hers back. That’s not true love, it can’t be, doing things for spite. The only good we have produced in all the pain and misery we have caused each other is Ana. I don't regret what we did, because Ana is the product of it. Our love."

He thought about that night. He had told Elle words that he should have never said.

“And you’re sure I can stay with you for a bit until I can get on my feet?”

“As long as you need Nico. I already love having the two of you around.”

Nico fell back into the lifestyle he had escaped in his early 20’s to help bring money into his Mother’s home.

He was surprised to see his mother at the dock waiting for him with Ana in her stroller.

“I couldn’t wait for you to get home. It’s a letter from King Liam.”

He tickled Ana’s chest for a moment, and she giggled to his touch. He wanted to pick her up, but he knew he was sweaty and disgusting from working on the boat all day. It didn’t pay much, but it was more than nothing.

“Nico, what does it say?!?!?!”

"Okay give me a moment to open it!"

Nico skimmed the letter quickly.

“King Liam wants to make sure that Ana is well taken care of, that regardless of Elle abdicating the throne, that she is part of the crown, and part of the royal family, and by extension, I am too. There’s a check enclosed, the beginning of a monthly stipend for Ana’s care and wellbeing.”

The monthly check was well more than double his salary that he made as a centurion guard, it was a small fortune.

“You could buy a house, Nico.”

“Yes I can. I will buy the perfect house to raise my daughter.”

Elle

Elle closed her eyes remembering her last night at the apartment with Nico. They. Made. Love. Nico was passionate and it was beautiful. She knew what sex was like with him, and they had sex before, slipping away for a short time during palace events because they had a finite number of minutes before someone would notice either one was missing. That last night together wasn’t that.

His actions didn’t make sense. What he had said to her father, how the two of them had been together, especially the last time. He knew how difficult it was for her to say those words to him, and when those words slipped from her lips that last time during, he said them back, and it was a very emotional moment between them, at least, she thought it was. She thought he meant them. How did she misunderstand that?

“Why would you do that to me?”

“You were naive Eleanor. You thought you were in control with him, and you weren’t. Men say what they want to get what they want. And what he wanted, what he was lusting for was you."

"Can you just not do this right now? You were gone for months. I felt the most normal I've ever felt in my life with Father, Nico and…Ana." Elle choked back tears thinking of Ana. "I miss my baby. Don't you care that I'm hurting right now? Leave me alone please."

"I find this extremely interesting. You were talking all big and bad before, and look at you now…. Oooh how the mighty have fallen."

"Can you just give me just one day of peace before you start up on me again. Just one day?"

She clutched the little pink plush teddy bear close to her chest that Nico had left behind. The little plush bear smelled like Ana, it smelled like the little home they had created at the apartment.

The next day Eleanor spoke to her doctor. They increased her medication, and Elle fell into a medication induced haze. Elle found for her being emotionally numb to the world around her dulled her senses. Dulled her interactions with his manifestations and Elle lost complete track of how much time she had spent in the hospital.

“It’s time for therapy Eleanor.”

“Alright.”

Elle sat in silence staring at Dr. Stanley, her therapist. Another mostly silent therapy session.

“Eleanor, I really thought today would be different for you.”

Elle shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just another day in a sequence of many, one continuous loop of the same thing every day.”

“I beg to differ. Today is different for you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Elle gently stroked the teddy bear she was holding.

“For starters, you never have brought that teddy bear in here with you during your past therapy sessions. What’s the significance now?

“It’s her teddy bear he left behind, is all. It doesn’t even smell like her anymore. It just smells like me.”

“Do you know what today is?”

“The days blur together here. I don’t know what you are getting at.”

“It’s your daughter’s first birthday.”

“It is?” Elle looked down at the teddy bear resting in her lap.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long? It’s been that long?” ��

“It has. I was thinking maybe it’s time to wean you down on your medication a little bit.”

“NO! You know what I’m capable of!”

“Eleanor, we adjusted your medication stronger because it was evident from the way you came back to us, you needed it to help you cope. You were almost grieving for your daughter in a way because Nico took her back to Greece.”

Elle’s eyes filled with tears as she clutched the little teddy bear in her lap.

“Your point is?”

“You’re using the medication as a crutch now. If you ever want to get better and even possibly consider a life outside of here…”

“What kind of life can I have? I don’t have a home. I’m not ever going back to the palace. Ana is with her father, and he hasn’t even contacted me once since he left. I have no one now. My baby probably doesn’t even remember me anymore, and she’s celebrating her first birthday right now without me. I will never forget the moment she came into this world.“

Liam, Liberty, Nico, and Ana

The moment was bittersweet for Liam as Nico surrounded by his family and Ana sat up front with precocious eyes, barely digging into her birthday smash cake, only swiping a tiny bit of icing from the cake to her lips.

She reminded him of Ellie so much at that age. Nico smiled and coaxed her in Greek to not be timid. At that point she decided it was okay to dig into the cake. Ana grabbed fistfulls of cake, and family around her began to laugh and snap pictures.

Later Nico came over to them.

“I’m so glad the two of you were able to make the trip.”

“She's gotten so big!” Liam took her from Nico giving her a hug and a kiss. “It feels like only yesterday she was born.”

“I know, I have taken so many pictures of her, I swear I just blinked, and she started crawling, now walking and talking.”

Liberty took one of Ana’s hands while Liam talked to her.

“I’m your Aunt Libby, and I’m so happy to meet you.”

“I’ll let you two have some time with her.” Nico gently kissed the top of Ana’s forehead before she walked away.

Liam held her close.

“She looks just like Ellie, Father.”

“She really does. I wish she was here. I hate that she’s missing this.”

“I agree, but we’ll give her hugs for her.”

“Yes we will, I’m so glad you decided to come with me to Greece, Libby.”

“Me too, Father.”

He knew he would think about her today, even though he tried not to. Elle… He thought about her most days, how could he not, he was raising a daughter, their daughter, who had big brown eyes and long curly locks, just like her mother. She had her mother’s eyes, and the way that Ana stared at him sometimes, he felt like she knew they were missing something special from their lives. That she was missing someone who cared deeply about her. Nico shook his head again, maybe it was him just projecting his own feelings that he secretly hoped Ana felt too.

Was Elle even thinking of her today? Nico glanced down at his desk, at the letter he had started writing to Elle multiple times over the last six months, each time he decided not to mail it. He had thought he would send her pictures of Ana, so Elle could see their daughter, and know she was doing well.

Finally late in the evening, even after the strong convincing of his mother to stay to help him clean the house, Nico was alone in the house with Ana again. Ana looked tired, she had a big day with family.

“Time for a bath, but before that. I have one last present for you.”

Nico helped her pull the wrapping paper from the frame. It was a picture of Nico and Elle together when they had spent Christmas in Greece. He set it on the mantle as a centerpiece. The two of them, had been happy during that trip, and Elle looked beautiful in that pink dress.

“The woman standing next to me in this picture, is someone I truly cared about deeply. You may not remember her, but I’m sure she remembers you. Her name is Elle, and she’s your mother.”

That night Nico started a tradition with Ana. He began telling Ana the story of a princess locked away in a tower, by an evil dragon. The story over the years became more elaborate.

“Papa, why didn’t her guard rescue her?”

Nico was surprised by Ana’s question.

“Was he afraid of the dragon because it hurt people?”

“Yes.”

“Was he afraid because the dragon was part of her too?”

Nico nodded.

“But he loves her right?”

“He does….did.”

“And she loves him?”

“She did, but she probably doesn’t anymore.”

“If the guard is anything like you Papa, she still does. I think he should go rescue her.”

“Hey! I’m the one telling this story!”

Ana folded her arms across her chest glaring at him. She had Elle’s mannerisms completely in that moment. She spoke to him with a matter of fact voice very reminiscent of her mother, “Well I’m just telling you how to make this story better.”

Nico chuckled loudly. “Fine! I’ll take it under advisement.”

“The story just stops.. There’s got to be more to it.”

“I’ll think about it. Now you sleep. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night Papa.”

“Good night Ana.”

Nico kissed Ana’s forehead, and turned off the bedside lamp.

The story had stopped, because Nico forced it to stop. He had run away from the story, from Elle, the moment Ana could take a bottle and never went back. But was there truly more? Could there really be more to the story?

The next day someone showed up on Nico’s doorstep to tell him that there was.

#bebepac writes #with a flair for the dramatic #and drama for the win #the rotten apple #choices fanfic #choices fandom appreciation #nico x elle #liam x riley #choices fic writers creations

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